B    M    IDE 


Y 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


A    REVEREND    IDOL 


A    NO^EL 


FIFTEENTH    EDITION 


BOSTON 

TICKNOR     AND     COMPANY 

2ii  Crrmont  S-trrct 


COPYRIGHT,  1882, 
BY  JAMES  B.  OSGOOD  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved. 


JFranklm 

RAND,  AVERY,  AND 
BOSTON. 


CONTENTS. 


CVAPTKB.  PASE. 

L  —  AN  UNWELCOME  ENCOUNTEB    .       •       •       .  1 

II.  —  MISS  MONNY  SETTLES  THE  MlNISTEB        .          .  18 

III.  — THE  ARTIST 84 

IV, — THE  MINISTER  DOES  NOT  STAY  SETTLED        .  60 

V.  —  THE  HOLY  FATHERS  ......  68 

VI. — MAN  CONTENDING  WITH  THE  ELEMENTS.          .  87 

VII. —-WOMAN  DISMISSED  TO  THE  KITCHEN        .       .  101 

VIII.— WOMAN'S  SPHERE 121 

IX. — THE  Visrr  OF  "THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE".       .  132 
X. — WOMAN'S  SPHERE  MYSTERIOUSLY  DISTURBED 

BY  MAN'S 142 

XI. — A  GREAT  DISCOVERY 162 

XII.  — THE  HEROINE'S  BACK  HAIB     .       .       .       .185 
XIII.— How   TERTULLIAN   BOUGHT   A  LOVE  OP   A 
BONNET,  AND  ANOTHER  WISE  MAN  MADE 

MISCHIEF  OUT  OF  THE  BANDBOX  .       .       .  206 

XIV.  —  TERTULLIAN  PRESENTS  THE  BONNET       .       .  227 
XV. — THE   NKW-YOEK   WIDOW   APPEARS   ON   THE 

SCENE 235 

XVI.  —  THE  SMALL  BEGINNING  OF  A  GREAT  WOE      .  250 

XVII.  —  THE  LOVERS  IN  THE  STUDIO     ....  2G7 

XVIII.  —  MR.  LEIGH  PREACHES,  AND  THE  WIDOW  PLOTS,  279 

XIX.  — BETROTHAL 289 

XX.  —  MONNY  CONFIDES  TO  AUNT  PERSY  A  SECRET 

ADVENTURE  OF  HER  SCHOOLDAYS       .       .  295 

iii 


iv  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEB.  PAGE, 

XXI. — CONCLUSION  OF   MONNY'S   STORY  TO   AUNT 

PERSY 313 

XXII.  —  LOVERS'  TALK 337 

XXIII.  —  THE   WIDOW   MAKES   HER   FIRST   STAB    AT 

MONNY 356 

XXIV.  —  SHE  FOLLOWS  UP  THE  ATTACK  ....  375 
XXV.  —  DOUBLE  GAME  OF  THE  WIDOW         .       .  •  387 

XXVI.  —  How  A  TRUTHFUL  GIRL  MAY  APPEAR  TO  A 

MAN  TO  BE  A  LIAR 393 

XXVII.  —  MASCULINE  AND  FEMININE  POINTS  OF  VIEW  .  410 
XXVIII.  —  MONNY  MAKES  A  LAST  TERRIBLE  STUDY  OF 

THE  WOMAN-QUESTION- 417 

XXIX.  —  A  MIDNIGHT  INTERVIEW 428 

XXX.  —  CONCLUSION •       .       .  437 


'     iQ6i 


A  REVEREND  IDOL. 


; 

THE  great  preacher  of  St.  Ancient's  had  just  arrived 
at  his  summer  lodgings.  These  were  a  front  cham 
ber  and  a  back  one,  under  the  roof  of  Mistress  Doane, 
widow  of  Capt.  Azariah  Doane,  drowned  mariner  of 
Cape  Cod.  As  the  new-comer  disappeared  up  stairs, 
his  landlady  remarked  that  "he  didn't  exactly  look  like 
a  minister ;  but  'twas  certain  he  was  a  regular  high-born 
gentleman,  because  he  stepped  right  into  things  just  as 
he  found  them,  putting  on  no  airs  at  all."  And  black 
Susannah,  the  only  audience  which  the  widow  had  for 
her  comments,  replying  with  whatsoever  comments  of  her 
own  on  the  stranger,  forthwith  alluded  to  him  as  his 
Honor.  Nor  could  any  instructions  about  the  proper 
distributing  of  titles  among  the  professions  ever  after 
prevail  on  her  to  drop  this  fashion  of  designating  the 
Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh. 

"His  Honor"  (he  had,  by  the  way,  this  approximate 
claim  to  Susannah's  peculiar  term  of  distinction,  that  he 
was  the  son  of  a  judge)  was  stepping  meanwhile  from 
one  to  another  of  his  chamber-windows  to  see  the  \\ide 
view  therefrom,  which  nothing  intercepted,  save,  at  one 
window,  the  overshadowing  boughs  of  a  Balm-of-Gilead 
tree,  which  had  grown  to  quite  an  imposing  size  for  a 
Cape-Cod  tree. 

1 


2  A  EEVEBEND  IDOL. 

Mrs.  Doane  was  right.  Although  there  was  nothing  in 
the  stranger's  mien  or  dress  which  jarred  on  your  idea  of 
a  minister,  when  you  found  that  he  was  one,  still  you 
would  never  have  taken  him  at  first  sight  for  a  minister, 
even  of  the  Muscular  Saint  variety.  No :  while  he  was 
a  most  uncommonly  tall,  powerfully-built  man,  the  very 
last  of  characters  which  he  suggested  was  the  type  popu 
larly  known  as  the  athletic  clergyman.  Intellectuality 
predominated  in  him  rather  than  animal  spirits. 

Just  now  he  had  the  look  of  a  man  glad,  for  some 
reason,  to  reach  the  desert;  and  a  desert  it  was  which 
stretched  before  him.  The  ,vast  sweep  of  the  open 
Atlantic,  its  shore  scarcely  more  than  half  a  mile  distant 
from  the  front  of  the  house,  bounded  the  horizon ;  while 
away  to  one  side,  the  gray  tower  and  fantastic  arms  of 
a  windmill,  a  few  weather-beaten  roofs  of  the  little  village 
of  Lonewater,  to  which  the  widow  Doane's  house  nomi 
nally  belonged,  but  from  which  it  was  quite  outlying,  — 
these  were  the  sole  signs  of  human  life  in  the  landscape. 
All  else  was  a  strange,  rolling  waste  of  sand-hills,  only 
broken  here  and  there  by  little  belts  of  pine-trees  and 
shrub-oaks,  which  wfth  the  golden  masses  of  the  poverty- 
grass,  still  in  bloom,  touched  the  sand-heaps  and  their 
hollows  with  some  hues  not  wholly  unbeautiful  to  the  eye, 
however  little  they  might  promise  of  harvest. 

All  this  lonely  scene  being  apparently  just  what  the 
present  spectator  had  desired  to  find,  he  took  up  his  port 
manteau  with  a  well- pleased  look,  and  descended  from  hia 
grand  front  apartment  with  upright  walls,  into  the  back 
bedroom  with  walls  at  every  angle,  which  completed  his 
suite.  This  second  chamber  was  entered  going  down  by 
a  step ;  for  the  house,  a  double  one,  and  two-storied  in 
front,  apparently  had  several  fractions  of  stories  behind, 
descending,  by  gradations,  under  the  long  back  roof, 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  8 

sloping  slowly  to  the  earth.  It  was  an  aichitectural  style 
marked  by  a  decided  originality  in  windows,  which, 
punched  in  all  sizes  and  at  all  levels  of  distribution 
through  the  sides  of  the  house,  made  an  effect  without 
.rather  unique. 

The  insane  windows,  however,  freely  admitted  air,  and 
all  things  were  of  spotless  neatness ;  and  the  traveller,  as 
if  reminded  to  make  himself  so,  directly  proceeded  to 
wash  the  dust  of  a  July  journey  from  his  face.  During 
this  ceremony  he  wound  up  the  looking-glass  a  couple 
of  feet  or  so,  whereby  a  great  bunch  of  peacock's  tail- 
feathers,  which  had  ornamented  its  top,  went  flying  into 
the  water-basin  below.  Considerately  fishing  out  these 
plumes,  he  wandered  back  with  them  into  the  front  apart 
ment,  where  he  stuck  them,  dripping,  over  a  brazen  image 
of  the  god  Brahma,  which  was  the  centre-piece  of  the 
mantel  there,  rich  with  other  such  heathen  trophies,  brought 
by  the  departed  Capt.  Azariah  from  over  the  sea. 

Having  laid  about  him  with  a  few  more  of  these  initial 
strokes  of  re-arrangement,  such  as  are  wont  to  characterize 
a  man's  entrance  upon  feminine  premises,  he  seemed  to 
consider  himself  quite  domiciled,  and  returned  to  the  front 
windows,  again  to  revel  in  the  delightful  solitariness  of 
the  prospect.  And,  lo  !  the  fair  Sahara  had  contracted  a 
blot.  One  would  have  said,  from  the  change  in  the  man's 
face,  that  that  brazen  Fate  on  the  mantel  suddenly  con 
fronted  him  in  some  spectacle  without.  This  was  singu 
lar,  for  the  new  object  in  the  landscape  would  generally 
have  been  considered  a  charming  one.  It  was  an  uncom 
monly  pretty  girl,  uncommonly  the  centre  of  masculine 
admiration  ;  and  she  was  making  straight  for  the  house. 
There  was,  in  fact,  a  group  of  three  maidens,  all  more 
or  less  pretty,  escorted  by  three  young  men ;  but  the 
pretty  girl,  whom  they  called  by  the  boa  id  ing-school- 


4  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

romance  name  of  Monny  Rivers,  seemed  to  require  some 
quantum  of  attention  from  all  the  beaux,  and  to  receive 
it,  by  whatever  mysterious  charm,  without  alienating  her 
fair  companions. 

The  six  creatures  were  all  dressed  in  perfect  style  for 
the  occasion.  They  were  undeniably  urban  carpet-baggers 
to  this  world's  end  which  their  disgusted  observer  from 
the  chamber-window  had  intended  solely  to  carpet-bag 
himself.  Whatever  nonsense  the  belle  was  uttering  as 
the  laughing  group  came  on,  there  was  plainly  no  end  to 
it ;  and,  as  the  rest  of  the  party  strolled  slowly  along  to 
a  vehicle  which  Mr.  Leigh  now  perceived  was  in  waiting 
for  them  at  the  head  of  the  lane  which  led  towards  the 
sea,  who  but  she  opened  the  gate,  clearly  as  an  habituee 
of  the  place,  and  ran  up  the  walk  into  the  house  ?  Yea, 
up  to  the  very  chamber  opposite  his  own,  he  heard  her 
tripping  feet  ascend,  whence,  securing  some  matter  of 
extra  wraps  for  her  friends,  she  presently  returned  to 
her  attendant  cavalie:  at  the  door,  who,  taking  the 
shawls,  escorted  the  young  lady  back  to  rejoin  the  others. 

They  were  scarcely  clear  of  the  house  when  the  minister 
went  down  stairs  with  an  immediate  word  which  he  had 
to  say  to  his  landlady.  In  her  neat  sitting-room  he  found 
the  pleasant-faced  dame  (approaching  sixty)  who  had 
received  him  on  his  arrival,  and  put  to  her  the  directest 
questions  as  to  the  number  of  her  family. 

11  Perfectly  quiet,"  replied  Mrs.  Doane.  "No  family 
but  myself  and  one  boarder  ;  and  she  the  loveliest  young 
lady  from  the  city,  as  is  the  greatest  favorite  with  every 
body,  and  is  going  to  stay  here  all  the  summer  through 
now.  And  she  was  in  the  house  a  moment  ago,  but  is 
gone  away  riding  a  while  with  her  friends." 

4 'Yes,  I  saw  her,"  said  the  minister,  with  a  certain 
simplicity  he  had  of  speaking  the  truth ;  and,  turning 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  5 

abruptly,  he  vanished  at  once  from  the  room,  leaving  his 
landlady  to  lift  astonished  hands  that  ever  a  man,  even 
a  minister,  who  had  seen  Monny  Rivera's  face,  should 
not  l)e  pleased  with  the  idea  of  having  her  round.  For 
plainly  she  had  discerned  that  the  new  boarder  was  no\ 
pleased  with  that  prospect. 

Deeply  pondering  the  mystery,  she  concluded,  at  last, 
that  he  must  be  apprehensive  lest  the  whole  six  whom  h« 
had  seen  together  would  be  haunting  the  house,  to  the 
making  of  more  stir  than  he  desired.  So  she  resolved  to 
take  up-stairs  a  little  pitcher  of  root-beer  as  a  good  seda 
tive  for  the  ruffled  nerves  of  a  weary  traveller,  and  im 
prove  this  errand  to  inform  him  incidentally  that  her  young 
lady's  friends  were  only  very  transient  visitors  at  the  Cape. 
Two  of  the  young  men,  indeed,  in  the  trio  who  escorted 
the  belle,  had  each  respectively  a  sister  in  the  two  young 
ladies  accompanying  her.  It  was  in  pretended  devotion 
to  these  relatives,  that  the  brothers  had  included  Lone- 
water  in  their  summer  touring ;  but  in  truth  the  latter  had 
exhausted  all  the  arts  known  to  fraternal  cajolery  to  per 
suade  their  sisters,  school-friends  of  Miss  Monuy,  to  set 
foot  in  the  dull  hamlet  for  an  hour.  As  for  the  third 
admirer,  he  pursued  this  worshipped  maid  with  no  subter 
fuge  of  a  sister  to  sustain  him.  But  for  no  one  of  the 
three  rivals  who  had  met  so  unexpectedly  in  the  village 
on  the  same  errand,  had  Miss  Monny  any  preference 
which  would  encourage  a  prolonging  of  their  stay. 

Of  all  this  Mrs.  Doane  was  well  aware,  as  she  had 
much  more  than  a  summer  landlady's  acquaintance  with 
her  young  boarder;  for  the  latter  had  had  as  nuise, 
Mirough  several  years  of  her  childhood,  a  poor  cousin  of 
Mis.  Doane's,  through  which  lowly  relation  the  Cape-Cod 
widow's  house  had  come  to  be,  from  time  to  time,  a  sum 
mer  resort  of  Miss  Rivers  ever  since. 


6  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

So,  now,  the  good  woman,  gathering  herself  up,  made 
ready  her  innocent  stratagem  of  beer,  and  ascended  to 
the  presence  of  the  distinguished  new  arrival  to  offer  the 
same,  and  drop  the  renewed  assurance  that  Lonewater 
was  the  most  retired  place  in  the  world,  and  that 'Miss 
Rivers 's  friends  were  all  to  leave  in  a  day  or  two,  when 
the  young  lady  would  be  perfectly  quiet  and  alone.  This 
promise  of  having  the  society  of  the  belle  solely  to  him 
self  did  but  add  another  shade  to  the  already  shadowed 
clerical  brow,  as  Mrs.  Doane  failed  not  to  observe.  And 
although  the  minister  politely  accepted,  whether  he  drank 
of  the  jorum  or  not,  her  pitcher  of  refreshment,  she  had 
scarce  regained  her  room  when  she  saw  him  go  forth  for 
a  walk,  not  seaward,  but  straight  back  towards  the  vil 
lage.  Whoever  had  followed  him  would  have  seen  that 
his  private  errand  was  to  seek  there  a  rather  ample-look 
ing  house,  abode  of  one  Capt.  Gawthrop ;  which  house,  he 
had  incidentally  learned  during  his  ride  from  the  village, 
had  accommodations  for  boarders.  It  was,  in  fact,  the 
place  where  Miss  Rivers 's  admirers,  enduring  each  other 
under  the  same  roof  as  best  they  could,  were  at  present 
quartered ;  and  the  inquiries  which  Mr.  Leigh  now  has 
tened  to  make  at  this  door  suggested  a  possible  change 
of  his  own  lodgings  thither  when  the  rooms  should  be 
vacant. 

In  explanation  of  this  mysterious  behavior  of  the  Rev. 
Kenyon  Leigh,  who  was  an  unmarried  man  of  thirty-four, 
it  must  be  said  that  he  was  —  adored  of  women.  There 
had  been  a  good  many  years  now  of  his  single  estate  to 
attract  these  adorations  in ;  and  the  tragical  thing  was, 
that,  as  he  grew  older,  young  girls  worshipped  him  all 
the  same  and  a  good  deal  more,  while  the  maturer  maid 
ens  and  young  widows  naturally  put  more  personal  hope 
into  their  devotions :  so  time  brought  to  this  suffocate* 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  7 

idol  no  relief,  but  an  ever- widen  ing  circle  of  the  incense- 
burners.  This  pernicious  atmosphere,  however,  had  not 
quite  spoilt  our  hero  into  that  most  intolerable  of  cox 
combs,  tl\e  man  who  fancies  every  woman  must  be  in  love 
with  him,  although  his  apprehensions  at  sight  of  a  pretty 
girl  so  far  his  junior,  and  surrounded  by  her  beaux, 
might  seem  to  imply  something  very  absurd  in  that  direc 
tion.  The  best  of  men  will  have  moments  which  by  no 
means  represent  their  normal  mood  and  character ;  and 
we  beg  that  Mr.  Leigh's  proceedings  be  not  prematurely 
judged  ;  although  he  did  so  prolong  his  ramble  as  to  return 
late  enough  to  take  tea  alone,  and  then  requested  break 
fast  to  be  served  to  him  next  morning  in  his  own  apart 
ment.  At  dinner  and  tea  of  that  day,  as  it  chanced, 
Miss  Rivers  was  herself  absent :  so  he  escaped  for  four 
meals  the  pretty  girl  of  whom  he  made  such  an  extraor 
dinary  bete  noir. 

But  on  the  second  day,  as  the  young  lady  returned  home 
a  little  before  bedtime,  the  motherly  Mrs.  Doane  came 
to  her  chamber  with  some  good-night  gossip,  and  a  kero 
sene  lamp  to  aid  the  dim  candle  which  was  winking  there. 
In  these  lights  one  saw  a  rounded  girlish  figure,  of  aver 
age  L  eight,  but  more  than  the  average  vitality  of  young 
American  maidens.  As  Monny  exchanged  her  costume 
of  the  day  for  a  loose  dressing-sack,  there  were  revealed 
arms  and  shoulders  moulded  like  those  of  some  sculptured 
goddess :  the  exceeding  beauty  of  the  girl's  hands,  in 
deed,  had  cost  her  dearly  in  one  adventure  of  her  life, 
whose  consequences  were  not  yet  past.  Her  face  might 
not  have  been  considered  to  possess  the  ideal' perfection 
of  her  figure,  as  the  features  were  irregular;  but  it  was 
still  a  very  lovely  and  charming  head,  —  eyes  of  the  darkest 
brown,  and  hair  of  the  lightest  hue  that  could  lie  culled 
brown  at  all ;  not  auburn,  but  golden  in  its  high  lights, 


8  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

and  with  just  a  hint  of  warm  brown  in  the  shadows. 
She  had  cheeks  that  dimpled  as  she  smiled,  very  white 
and  perfect  teeth,  and  a  complexion  like  morning  lighi 
The  rare-hued  hair  curled  naturally ;  not  in  tight  ringlets, 
but  in  large,  loose,  rolling  twines,  that  lent  themselves 
readily  to  any  style  of  coiffure :  as  they  were  all  shaken 
down  now  in  complete  dishevelment,  the  girl  looked  fair 
as  a  vision.  It  was  a  picture  in  which  wealth  of  color 
and  expression  atoned  for  the  want  of  classic  features. 

Mrs.  Doaue,  thinking,  as  she  had  often  done  before, 
that  her  young  boarder  was  the  prettiest  girl  alive,  was 
led  on  in  these  leisurely  moments  to  talk  of  the  masculine 
new-comer  who  so  strangely  saw  in  this  radiant  inmate 
a  drawback  to  her  house.  The  latter,  I  should  here 
remark,  not  having  heard  of  everybody  in  her  young  life, 
had  never  distinctly  heard  of  the  illustrious  Kenyon 
Leigh,  until  she  had  heard  that  a  New- York  preacher  of 
that  name  was  coming  to  board  at  Mrs.  Doane's.  The 
girl's  home  was  not  in  New  York.  The  preacher's  fame 
was  too  utterly  removed  from  the  sensational  to  be  as  yet 
noisy  (he  had  been  out  of  the  country  for  the  past  year)  ; 
and  Miss  Monny,  moreover,  had  been  brought  up  to 
attend  the  Unitarian  Church  with  one  set  of  her  relations, 
and  the  Orthodox  with  another.  She  was  an  orphan, 
having  lost  both  parents  by  a  peculiar  fatality  when  she 
was  scarce  a  twelvemonth  old. 

Ere  going  out  in  the  morning  to-day,  she  had  had  a 
mere  passing  introduction  to  the  new  boarder,  and  had 
observed,  with  disapproval,  that  he  was  not  an  aged 
man  ;  her  ideal  of  the  proper  clergyman  being  a  very  old 
man  with  white  hair.  Where  the  clergy  were  to  stay 
while  their  hairs  were  whitening  was  probably  a  question 
that  she  had  left  unsettled :  at  all  events,  mademoiselle 
decidedly  regarded  any  man  at  all  young  as  an  imperti- 


A    REVEREND   IDOL.  9 

nence  in  the  ministerial  office,  and  certainly  as  the  most 
unpleasant  of  beings  in  any  sentimental  attitude. 

With  this  predisposition  as  to  clergymen,  she  now 
aeard  the  confidences  which  Mrs.  Doaue  commenced 
slowly  to  impart,  beginning  by  mentioning  Mr.  Leigh's 
request  to  have  breakfast  served  in  his  own  room  that 
morning 

44  Well,  for  a  minister,  and  a  son  of  Goliath,  isn't  he 
a  poor  fussy  worm  of  the  dust?"  idly  commented  M:ss 
Monny,  carrying  to  the  fireplace  the  boots  which  she  had 
just  taken  off,  and  knocking  their  little  heels  together  to 
shake  out  the  sand  they  had  gathered. 

44 1  think,  dear,"  pursued  the  matron,  opening  further 
a  subject  which  would  have  been  hard  to  introduce  if  the 
girl  had  been  of  a  less  amiable  disposition,  —  44 1  think  he 
didn't  quite  like  the  idea  of  your  being  here.  He  said 
nothing  direct,  of  course  ;  but  I  saw  he  wasn't  pleased  at 
there  being  another  boarder  in  the  house." 

The  belle  widened  her  brown  eyes  a  little  at  this,  her 
first  experience  of  being  regarded  as  a  nuisance  by  the 
other  sex,  but  stood  in  a  silent  attitude  of  waiting  to  hea^ 
more.  And  Mrs.  Doane  went  on  :  — 

44  The  fact  is,  he's  been  to  Cap'n  Gawthrop's  to  ask 
about  board  there  when  your  friends  are  gone.  He 
didn't  really  engage  himself,  but  made  inquiries,  as  if  he 
might  be  going  to  move,  maybe.  You  see,  Susannah  had 
just  gone  over  there  to  take  Mis'  Gawthrop  that  receipt 
for  tomato-soup  that  she  wanted  of  me,  and  heard,  un 
beknown  (the  kitchen-door  being  open),  every  word  ho 
said ;  and  'twas,  that,  if  he  came,  he'd  pay  them  to  take 
no  boarders  but  himself.  I  thought  he  was  going  to  be 
such  a  splendid  boarder  to  suit,"  sighed  the  matron  :  4t  be 
stepped  right  into  the  house  so  hearty  and  at  home  when 
he  first  oame." 


fO  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  Very  much  at  home  indeed,  I  should  say,"  satirically 
replied  Miss  Monny,  "to  be  wanting  a  whole  house  to 
himself  when  he  only  lives  in  two  rooms  of  it,  and  or 
deriug  breakfasts  up  and  down  as  if  he  were  in  a  hotel," 
said  the  maiden,  seating  herself  emphatically  on  the  side 
of  the  bed,  her  long  regard  for  the  widow  making  her 
quite  personally  indignant  at  the  particularly  able-bodied 
boarder  who  thus  inconvenienced  her. 

44  Perhaps  he  won't  go  away,  after  all.  I  don't  believe 
he  will,"  presently  added  the  girl,  seeing  the  matron's 
anxious  face.  * '  When  he  has  taken  a  second  look  at 
the  Gawthrops,  he'll  see  that  it's  a  thousand  times  nicer 
here ;  and  he'll  stay  for  his  own  selfish  sake,  since  that's 
all  he  thinks  of,"  pronounced  Miss  Rivers.  "So  I 
wouldn't  worry,  aunt  Persy,"  she  said  with  affectionate 
cheeriness,  calling  the  widow  by  the  name  she  had  used 
in  childhood,  Mrs.  Doane's  baptismal  appellation  being 
the  scriptural  name  of  Persis.  "  And  if  he  is  so  unprinci 
pled  as  to  go,"  continued  the  young  lady,  tugging  vainly 
at  a  velvet  ribbon  that  was  knotted  round  her  full  throat, 
and  pausing  in  her  words  a  moment  to  seek  a  pair  of 
scissors,  —  "if  he  does  break  his  engagements  that  way, 
and  he  a  minister,"  resumed  Miss  Monny,  having  chopped 
herself  out  of  her  necklace,  and  made  a  nip  or  two  in  the 
air  with  her  scissors,  as  if  at  the  derelict  divine,  "  why  — 
I'll  pay  more  form?/  board,"  simply  concluded  the  girl, 
seating  herself  again  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  "  I  have 
two  rooms,  you  know,  this  summer ;  and  it's  fair  I  should 
pay  more,  if  he  leaves  on  my  account." 

"No,  Miss  Monny,"  said  the  matron  decisively. 
"  You've  done  nothing  awares  to  be  in  the  way,  but 
always  kindness  to  me  and  mine ;  and  you  pay  me  now 
all  that  I  should  feel  it  right  to  charge  any  young  lady 
for  country  board.  I've  no  use  for  the  rooms,  seeing, 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  11 

from  one  cause  and  another,  none  of  the  children  are 
coming  home  this  year  with  their  families  ;  which  was 
why  it  seemed  just  the  providential  time  for  me  to  take 
this  minister,  and  so  make  a  little  money  to  help  keep 
things  along.  And  he  agreed  perfectly  obliging  to  have 
dinner  between  one  and  two  o'clock,  which  I  was  afraid 
he  wouldn't  be  willing  to  give  up  the  New -York  fashion 
of  dinner  at  night,  and  supper  turned  about  into  luncheon 
l«i  the  middle  of  the  day,"  rambled  on  the  housekeeper; 
i%  which  was  a  great  relief  to  me,  as  dinner  is  a  meal  that 
J  want  to  have  the  freshness  of  the  day  to  get  up  in. 
No,  there  was  nothing  else  in  the  world  he  was  difficult 
about,"  murmured  the  matron,  musing  on  the  one  strange 
exception  to  the  new-comer's  amiability.  "And  it  seems 
he  is  a  very  famous  man  in  New  York,"  she  added  more 
aloud  to  the  girl.  "  Mis'  Gawthrop's  son's  wife's  cousin 
was  to  New  York  visiting  a  little  over  a  year  ago ;  and 
her  friends,  taking  her  round  to  see  the  lions,  took  her 
once  to  hear  Mr.  Leigh  preach,  she  said ;  but  they  were 
too  late  to  get  in.  The  church  was  crammed  and  over- 
flowin'  ;  and  she  said  'twas  always  so,  and  that  all  the 
ladies  in  New  York  were  after  him." 

Monny  received  this  last  announcement  with  a  little 
shriek  of  merriment.  "The  idea  of  anybody's  being 
after  thar  enormous !  Any  woman  who  wasn't  a  horrid 
giraffe  would  have  to  stand  vp  on  stilts  to  marry  him. 
Or  she  might  have  a  strap  put  through  his  arm  to  reach 
up  and  hold  on  by,  the  way  they  do  in  the  horse-cars," 
said  the  girl,  t^  isting  her  pocket-handkerchief  into  a  loop 
with  a  peculiarity  she  had  of  losing  herself  for  the 
moment  in  an}'  passing  fancy.  "  Graceful,  to  come  down 
the  aisle  leaning  on  your  bridegroom  this  way,"  she 
saidr  suggesting,  with  a  single  upward  thrust  of  her  white 
arm,  the  tableau  of  an  average  woman  clutching  at  the 
noosed  elbow  of  a  Titan  about  fifteen  feet  high. 


12  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

4 'Law,  how  you  do  make  pictures  out  of  the  air!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Doane,  impressed,  even  in  her  present 
pre-occupation,  with  the  dramatic  power  of  the  girl. 

"  Why  hasn't  he  a  wife?"  asked  Monny  severely, 
dropping  the  presentation  of  Mr.  Leigh's  wedding-grcup, 
and  sitting  up  against  the  tall,  old-fashioned  bed-post,  to 
consider  his  case  in  its  actuality.  "Of  course  he  stays 
unmarried  on  purpose  to  have  all  the  ladies  after  him,  and 
so  get  up  a  great  name  for  popularity,  and  have  his  church 
crammed.  It  isn't  likely  that  there  is  any  thing  particular 
in  his  brains.  He's  too  big.  I've  read  somewhere  that 
the  most  talented  men  are  generally  small." 

"As  to  that,"  rejoined  the  widow,  u  the  Lord  has  put 
the  remarkable  souls  of  this  world  into  all  sorts  of  bodies, 
first  and  last,  as  if  to  show  us  that  none  of  his  human 
temples  are  to  be  despised.  Great  men  have  been  hand 
some,  and  they've  been  homely ;  they've  been  small,  and 
sickly,  and  nothing  to  look  at ;  and  they've  been  strong, 
and  fine,  and  grand  to  look  at,  as  this  minister  is,  certain," 
broke  off  Mrs.  Doane.  "And,  considering  how  women 
will  run  after  any  tolerable  kind  of  a  minister,"  she  went 
on,  but  neglected  to  finish  audibly  her  sentence,  being  lost 
in  meditation  over  that  violence  of  feminine  onslaught 
which  this  very  superior  specimen  of  a  minister  had  doubt 
less  suffered,  that  he  had  come  to  flee  appalled  at  the  bare 
sight  of  a  young  lady.  For  Mrs.  Doane's  secret  convic 
tion  was  a  very  firm  one  as  to  what  was  the  minister's 
real  objection  to  her  house. 

The  fair  objection,  meanwhile,  was  so  little  aware  of 
where  her  objectionable  character  came  in,  that  she  stiJ 
fancied  the  difficult  New- York  clergyman  merely  wanted 
to  steep  himself  in  some  supernal  quiet  which  he  feared 
she  or  her  visitors  might  disturb.  So  her  mind  was  quite 
free  to  consider  philosophically  that  mysterious  infatuation 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  13 

of  her  sex  for  ministers,  suggested  by  Mrs.  Doane's  un 
finished  remark ;  and,  striving  charitably  to  construe  a 
mania  so  unshared  by  herself,  she  said,  — 

"It's  all  because  a  minister  is  a  kind  of  general  person 
to  tell  troubles  to.  Women  are  full  of  troubles  that  they 
want  to  pour  out,  and  have  some  man  say,  '  I'm  sorrv, 
and  you'll  be  appreciated  in  heaven/  Lucy  Snowc  wasn't 
silly,  and  she  hadn't  committed  any  crimes ;  and  in  the 
long  vacation  she  went  and  confessed  to  a  Romish  priest 
in  his  box.  She  wasn't  a  Catholic,  and  she  wasn't  in  love 
with  the  priest,  -  -she  wanted  to  pour  out." 

"  Lucy  Snowe?  —  A  friend  of  yours  did  such  a  thing  us 
that  ?  ' '  inquired  in  rather  a  scandalized  voice  the  Puritan 
matron. 

44  Lucy  Snowe  in  Charlotte  Bronte's  novel,  you  know," 
explained  Monny  ;  "  and  she  was  a  very  serious  character 
indeed." 

"Well,  howsoever  they  may  fix  it  up  in  novels,"  re 
joined  Mrs.  Doane  decidedly,  "I  don't  believe  all  the 
live  women  who  run  after  ministers  are  very  serious  char 
acters,  and  I  guess  some  of  their  troubles  would  keep. 
I«i  a  great  city  like  New  York,  now,  I  reckon  there's  a 
gathering  of  idle,  romantic  ladies  after  a  famous  preacher, 
much  as  there  is  after  a  play-actor,  or  a  forrin  prince  that 
comes  visiting.  Only  they  throw  bouquets  to  one  kind  of 
star,  and  go  to  see  the  other  about  their  souls  ;  and  since 
a  minister  can't  well  ask  a  lady  whether  it's  heaven  she 'a 
seeking,  or  only  to  flirt  with  heaven's  ambassador,  I  think 
a  truly  high-minded  one  must  feel  sometimes  as  if  his  busi 
ness  was  considerable  mixed." 

"H'm!"  said  Monny.  "Isn't  everybody's  business 
mixed  in  this  world?  And  a  minister  shouldn't  preach 
that  there's  a  way  to  get  through  all  your  snarls  pious 
and  patient  and  .proper,  if  he  can't  get  through  his  OWD 

80." 


14  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

11  Well,"  answered  the  matron  meditatively,  "it  looks 
as  if  this  minister  had  made  up  his  mind  that  the  only 
way  to  avoid  snarls  with  ladies  was  to  keep  as  far  away 
from  the  whole  race  of  'em  as  possible." 

Monny,  who,  weary  with  the  junketings  of  the  day,  had 
gone  idly  on  with  this  conversation  as  she  loitered  through 
the  process  of  preparing  for  her  slumbers,  here  started 
with  that  sudden  flash  and  widening  of  her  brown  eyes 
which  denoted  a  discovery.  "Oh!  you  mean  that  he 
fancies  I  —  /  will  be  laying  snares  for  his  attentions?" 
cried  the  astonished  belle  ;  and  the  idea  was  so  complete 
ly  ludicrous  to  her  she  laughed  herself  out  of  breath. 

She  sobered  presently,  however,  with  a  rising  of  maiden 
resentment,  as  she  said,  "The  first  man  in  this  world 
who  ever  insulted  me  with  having  such  thoughts." 

"Now,  my  child,  you  see  this  stranger  knows  nothing 
about  you,  except  that  you  are  a  young  lady  with  a  face 
of  your  own  ;  and  as  he  hasn't  studied  the  difference 
between  you  and  a  regular  flirt,  and  he  can't  help  seeing 
the  string  of  beaux  that  are  after  you  ' '  — 

"Now,  Mrs.  Persis,  you  know  I  never  asked  them  to 
come  here,  —  no,  nor  wanted  them.  I've  had  all  the 
riding  and  hops  and  nonsense  I  wished  for  this  summer ; 
and  so  I  came'away  from  aunt  Helen  and  the  fashionable 
places,  down  here,  on  purpose  to  stay  alone,  alone,  alone 
with  you  in  this  dear  old  house,  that  is  the  only  place  I 
have  to  go  to  in  the  world  where  I  can  get  serious  enough 
to  work  with  all  my  might  at  what  I  want  to." 

"Yes,  dear,  I  know;  and  if  this  minister  could  have 
the  least  idea  of  what  kind  of  girl  you  really  are  —  but 
he  couldn't  imagine  it:  I  believe  no  man  would  ever 
imagine  it,"  murmured  the  elder  woman,  speaking  with 
the  emphasis  of  some  thought  in  her  mind  as  she  gazed 
at  the  beautiful  young  face  before  her. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  15 

The  owner  of  that  face  was  not  listening  just  then:  she 
was  trying  to  realize  that  it  was  seriously  possible  for  thia 
preposterous  minister  to  leave  Mrs.  Doane's  house  on  her 
account,  and  wondering  what  she  could  do  about  it,  with 
so  concerned  a  lork  on  her  speaking  face,  the  widow 
said,  — 

"  Really,  my  child,  I  don't  know  how  I  came  to  let 
this  all  out  to  you.  But,  now  I've  said  it,  what  was  in 
my  head  was,  that  maybe,  if  you  kept  out  of  his  way 
n  little  for  a  day  or  two  —  you're  always  open-minded, 
dear,  to  understand  things  just  as  they're  meant :  so  you 
won't  take  offence  at  my  asking  you,  for  instance,  to 
have  your  breakfast  to-morrow  morning  by  yourself.  You 
see,  then,  if  he  should  ask  again  to  have  breakfast  in  his 
own  room,  I  could  mention  that  'twas  served  down  stairs 
for  him  alone.  I  don't  mind  any  thing  about  the  work, 
only  I  can't  get  things  hot  way  up  in  the  west  chamber; 
and  I  know  gentlemen  do  like  to  have  their  meals  hot." 

"  He  may  burn  himself  up  with  his  meals,  for  all  me  !  " 
declared  Mouny  indignantly.  "And  I  will  have  my 
breakfast  anywhere  and  any  time  that  will  be  easiest  for 
you,  aunt  Persy,"  she  added  with  immediate  good  nature 
towards  the  blameless  woman  who  had  this  intolerable 
boa/der  to  manage. 

"  Thank  3-011,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Doane,  taking  up  her 
caudle.  "I  thought,  maybe,  if  he  was  suited  fora  day 
or  two,  he  might  settle  to  stay  after  all,  as  he  didn't  posi 
tively  engage  to  go  to  Cap'n  Gawthrop's.  I  wouldn't 
wish  to  remember  my  own  profit  before  my  neighbor's, 
only  so  far  as  I  may  have  some  claim,  having  laid  out 
monej  in  expectation  of  his  being  here." 

"  How  much  do  kitchen  ranges  cost?"  suddenly  asked 
the  young  lady,  remembering  that  Mrs.  Doane  had  im 
ported  such  an  article  in  the  past  week,  because  of  the 


16  A  EEVEKEND   IDOL. 

com'ng  gentleman  boarder.  The  new  apparatus  which 
thus  graced  the  kitchen  on  Mr.  Leigh's  account  had  been 
an  outlay  which  quite  alarmed  the  widow  now  to  think 
of ;  but  she  would  not  accept  advances  of  money  from 
the  impulsive  girl  on  this  bill.  So  she  replied,  in  general 
terms,  that  she  had  long  wanted  the  range,  as  her  old 
stove  was  small  and  worn  out,  and  that  Mr.  Leigh  set 
his  own  price,  when  he  wrote  to  her,  for  his  board,  at  so 
great  a  figure,  she  felt  she  must  have  the  best  conven 
iences  for  preparing  meals.  He  paid  more  money  than 
anybody  could  have  thought  of  asking  for  board  in  a 
plain  old  house  like  hers. 

"Money  doesn't  pay  for  bad  manners;  and  he  has 
the  worst  manners  I  ever  heard  of,"  pronounced  Mouny, 
thumping  her  pretty  head  into  her  pillow  with  the  energy 
of  her  condemnation. 

But,  when  Mrs.  Doane  was  gone,  she  began  to  consider 
very  seriously  whether  any  thing  could  be  done  to  make  this 
abominably  mannered  but  pecuniarily  profitable  boarder 
stay  where  he  was  due.  For  the  girl  was  quite  unselfish 
enough  to  put  her  own  inclinations  out  of  the  case  in 
regard  for  the  widow,  whose  thrifty  struggles  to  keep  the 
old  place  —  so  dear  to  her  as  an  independent  little  home 
for  herself  and  a  summer  retreat  for  her  children,  whose 
means  were  all  very  moderate  —  Monny  was  well  ac 
quainted  with. 

She  pondered,  —  whether  one  could  reason  with  the 
renegade  minister,  of  righteousness,  and  a  judgment  to 
come  for  those  who  devoured  widows'  houses,  letting 
them  buy  kitchen-ranges  in  vain ;  whether  to  send  him 
a  certificate  in  writing  that  she  would  stay  in  he.  own 
rooms,  and  not  cross  his  sabred  vision  for  the  season 
(these  steps  seemed  hardly  feasible)  ;  whether  to  go  away 
herself.  That,  too,  would  be  a  loss  to  Mrs.  Doane; 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  17 

besides,  frhe  had  made  a  very  especial  effort  to  come  and 
spend  the  rest  of  the  summer  just  where  she  was.  The 
case  was  involved.  A  masculine  boarder  who  was  going 
to  leave  a  house  for  fear  a  young  lady  there  would  lind 
him  too  agreeable ;  the  young  lad}T  really  finding  him  as 
intolerable  as  he  could  possibly  desire,  yet  forced  to  wish 
for  his  stay,  lest  a  widow  should  be  defrauded  ;  the  young 
lady  prevented  by  the  conventions  of  society  from  inform 
ing  him  of  her  sentiments,  viz.,  that  personally  she  so 
desired  his  departure,  he  would  be  profoundly  safe  to  stay, 
and  she  would  hate  him  to  his  heart's  content,  if  he  would 
only  remain  for  the  landlady's  good. 

Opening  and  shutting  her  sleepy  eyes  on  this  remarkable 
muddle  of  conditions  in  a  vain  effort  to  see  through  it 
some  clear  line  of  action,  Miss  Rivers  went  at  last  to 
the  land  of  dreams,  leaving  the  minister  undisposed  of. 


18  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER  H. 

THE  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  fell  so  far  short  of  the 
wickedness  expected  of  him  as  to  make  no  second 
demand  for  a  private  breakfast ;  but  wholly  unaware  of 
the  excitement  caused  by  his  first  one,  and  his  discovered 
call  at  Capt.  Gawthrop's,  he  descended  innocently  next 
morning  to  seat  himself  wherever  Mrs.  Doane's  usual 
breakfast-table  might  be  spread,  and  with  whomsoever 
might  be  wont  to  gather  round  it.  Only  the  widow 
gathered  there,  no  other  mortal  appearing  save  Susannah 
to  wait  on  the  table. 

Peacefully  alone  with  his  landlady  then,  the  minister 
partook  the  morning  meal,  going  out  directly  thereafter 
for  a  ramble  down  the  lane  and  a  short  walk  on  the 
beach.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  young  lady  boarder  was  at 
all  in  his  absorbed  mind  this  morning,  save  as  some  un 
conscious  touch  of  satisfaction  may  have  been  there  that 
her  languidly  fashionable  habits  apparently  prevented 
her  from  getting  up  to  breakfast,  as  her  pleasure- roving 
habits  did  from  ever  appearing  at  the  regular  hour  for 
any  of  her  other  meals.  The  absorbed  mind  was  turning 
back  to  long  intermitted  tasks  ;  for,  instead  of  being  at 
the  beginning  of  his  vacation  this  midsummer  morning,  the 
minister  considered  himself  rather  at  its  end.  So  far  from 
having  come  to  this  retreat  to  rest,  he  had  come  there 
with  peculiarly  vigorous  intentions  of  work. 

He  had  been  a  minister  never  before  given  to  long 
vacations ;  but  he  had  been  silent,  and  absent  from  his 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  19 

pulpit,  now,  for  nearly  a  year  past,  journeying  in  Europe 
and  in  the  East,  from  which  tnuels  he  had  landed  in 
New  York  only  a  few  days  back.  He  had  intended, 
indeed,  to  remain  abroad  yet  two  or  three  months  longer, 
but  had  returned  home  thus  in  advance  of  the  time  set 
for  him  to  occupy  again  his  city  pulpit,  because  his 
foreign  *jip  had  not  brought  him  the  restoration  which 
he  had  hoped  to  find  in  it.  The  ma'^dy  which  had  sent 
him  abroad  to  try  the  cure  of  a  complete  change  was 
no  physical  one,  only  a  secret  sense  which  had  come  to 
him,  even  while  his  popularity  was  brilliantly  on  the 
increase,  of  the  failure  of  his  first  enthusiasm  in  his 
work. 

The  first  enthusiasm  in  all  work,  in  mere  aims  of  living, 
is  fed  more  or  less  by  illusion  ;  and  whether  there  will  be 
power  to  go  on  with  the  work,  with  the  high  purposes, 
when  the  illusion  begins  to  vanish,  is  one  of  the  great 
tests  of  a  life.  One  sees  many  men  go  down  at  this 
point ;  apparently  established  lives  make  intellectual  or 
moral  decline,  or  both,  when  age  is  yet  very  far  from 
touching  the  faculties,  and  when,  if  it  be  a  moral  falling- 
off,  it  would  seem  that  the  mere  strength  of  previously 
correct  habits  should  have  insured  them  :  it  is  experience 
that  has  withered  the  young  dream  under  which  their 
good  foi'ces  triumphed. 

Kenyon  Leigh's  work  happened  to  be  preaching ;  and, 
however  little  the  clerical  mark  was  on  him  to  the  eye, 
he  had  attained  to  a  breadth  of  success  in  the  pulpit 
which  proved  that  he  was  pre-eminently  born  for  his  call 
ing.  Whenever  and  wherever  he  spoke,  the  Puritans 
flocked  to  hear  him,  though  he  preached  in  a  gown  ;  and 
the  radicals,  though  he  preached  the  strait  gospel.  This 
singular  light  which  had  always  been  in  his  interpretations 
to  the  most  widely  different  classes  of  minds  burned  yet 


20  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

in  his  own  soul :  his  present  depression  did  not  arise  from 
what  could  properly  be  called  a  failure  of  religious  faith. 
No  :  while  he  was  eminently  a  thinker  himself,  and  given 
to  constant  and  candid  study  of  the  scientific  and  critical 
thought  of  the  day,  some  insight  of  a  poetic  soul  had  so 
enabled  him  to  pierce  to  the  eternal  heart  of  truth  in  the 
Christian  creed,  that  he  could  preach  still,  as  an  honest 
man,  the  old  religior . 

Nevertheless,  there  were  problems  in  his  profession 
which  weighed  on  him  in  proportion  to  the  breadth  of 
the  man ;  and  he  had  reached  now,  as  we  have  implied, 
that  critical  period  in  life,  which,  as  to  mere  years,  may 
come  earlier  or  later  than  it  had  done  to  Kenyon  Leigh, 
when,  with  every  faculty  ripe  for  the  best  action,  energy 
is  paralyzed  by  a  loss  of  the  early  sanguine  belief  in  the 
results  of  action.  He  did  not  regret  his  choice  of  a  life- 
work  :  he  only  wanted  to  get  a  new  start  in  it,  —  that 
courage  of  the  actual,  faith  to  go  on  working  with  all 
one's  might  in  the  knowledge  of  things  just  as  they  really 
are.  It  had  seemed  to  him  that  he  might  best  win  this 
new  courage  by  a  complete  dropping  and  forgetting,  for 
a  time,  of  all  his  labors :  for  this  prime  end  he  went  to 
Europe.  He  had  spent  several  years  of  his  student  life 
in  a  foreign  university :  for  this  and  other  reasons  the 
Old  World  was  peculiarly  attractive  to  him,  and  he  had 
ceitainly  enjoyed  his  trip. 

Still  the  chief  hope  in  which  it  had  been  undertaken 
was  not  fulfilled :  that  precious  inward  spring  of  the 
early  enthusiasm  in  his  work  did  not  rise  again.  On 
the  contrary,  the  longer  he  staid  abroad  at  this  time, 
the  longer  he  wanted  to  stay.  Discovering  this  fact  in 
himself,  he  faced  suddenly  about  with  characteristic  reso 
lution,  and  came  home,  to  seek  out  for  a  time  such  a 
seclusion  as  this  of  Cape  Cod,  and  see  if  he  could  lay 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  21 

hold  of  the  primal  forces  there  by  buckling  straight  down 
to  the  writing  of  new  sermons. 

Now,  in  one  direction  the  weary  minister  had  not  had 
a  vacation:  respite  from  adoring  women  had  been  denied 
him.  They  had  gone  out  with  him  on  the  English  steamer, 
and  come  home  with  him  on  the  French  one  ;  and  it  was 
astonishing  by  what  conjunctions  they  had  crossed  his 
track  all  over  Europe,  and  even  in  Palestine  and  among 
the  Pyramids.  He  could  swear,  as  did  Sir  Launcelot, 
"  by  truth  and  knighthood,"  that  lie  "  gave  no  cause,  not 
willingly,  for  such  a  love/'  being  a  man  who  never,  in 
any  profession,  would  have  gone  sprinkling  thin  and  wide 
the  vapory  shower  of  his  affections,  as  doth  the  ladies' 
man  ;  and  clerical  philandering  was  forever  impossible  to 
him. 

Lest  it  should  be  imagined,  however,  that  this  hero  is 
intended  to  add  his  note  to  the  prolonged  ululations  of 
these  latter  days  over  the  ministerial  perils,  it  may  be 
necessary  solemnly  to  state  the  fact,  that,  in  all  his 
adored  existence,  he  had  never  found  any  thing  worse 
than  weakness,  the  very  innocentest  silliness,  in  the  ladies 
who  thus  hunted  him. 

But  just  now  he  was  quite  abnormally  sensitive  to  all 
the  pains  of  life,  adoring  women  especially ;  and  when, 
into  tuai  solitary  cave  by  the  sea  which  he  fancied  he 
had  secured  out  of  reach  of  all  such,  there  marched  at 
the  first  breath  that  particularly  twinkling  damsel,  why, 
he  felt  the  longed-for  peace  of  that  widow's  house  most 
darkly  threatened.  For,  so  far  as  he  had  attained  to  an* 
philosophy  concerning  this  species  of  charmer,  he  con 
eluded  that  the  talent  for  enslaving  men,  when  it  existed 
in  this  supreme  perfection,  exercised  itself  like  an  instinct 
upon  whatever  subject  came  to  hand.  He  did  not  wish 
to  be  that  subject  at  hand ;  and,  in  short,  he  behaved  in 


22  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

an  hour  of  weakness  as  we  have  recorded.  This  morn 
ing,  however,  his  soul  was  stronger:  he  had  descended 
manfully,  as  we  have  seen,  expecting  to  meet  the  enemy 
at  the  family  board.  And  now,  although  he  had  no 
revelation  of  the  ties  between  himself  and  Mrs.  Doane's 
new  cojking-stove,  yet,  as  a  man  really  considerate  of 
widows  expectant  of  boarders,  he  had,  perhaps,  begun  to 
fear  that  the  bonus  which  he  proposed  to  give  on  depart 
ure  might  not  solace  the  matron.  Then,  the  apprehended 
flirt  having  been  thus  far  so  mercifully  taken  up  with 
other  men  as  not  to  be  even  visible  in  the  house,  which 
without  her  was  completely  satisfactory  to  him,  alto 
gether,  it  is  probable  that  his  plan  of  removal  was  con 
siderably  in  abeyance  just  now.  Certainly,  as  he  walked 
down  the  lane,  he  was  not  on  his  way  to  Capt.  Gaw- 
throp's  ;  and  he  proposed  returning,  after  a  brief  ramble, 
to  his  rooms  at  Mrs.  Doane's,  for  a  long  morning's 
study. 

Going  swiftly  down  the  lane  now,  and  crossing  some 
intervening  barrens,  he  came  out  upon  the  high  bluff-like 
bank  of  the  ocean,  far  below  which  was  the  beach,  con 
veniently  reached,  however,  by  the  hollows  which  at 
various  intervals  intersected  the  undulating  bank.  Pres 
ently  descending  the  latter  by  one  of  these  openings  to 
the  lower  promenade  of  the  beach,  he  had  scarcely  reached 
it,  when  he  heard  mingled  with  the  sound  of  the  retiring 
waves  (the  tide  was  going  out)  other  music,  —  a  girl's 
laughter,  a  big  dog's  bark,  and  the  racing  feet  of  both. 
Scamper  they  came,  or  rather,  went ;  for  they  were  run 
ning  from  Mr.  Leigh  when  he  first  caught  sight  of  them. 
Facing  about,  however,  at  the  farther  goal,  which  was  a 
stake  standing  aslant  in  the  sands,  the  maiden  solemnly 
eounted,  "One,  two,  three!"  catching  back  the  dog, 
o\er  and  over,  as  he  showed  a  disposition  to  bound  incon- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  23 

tineutly  away  before  the  proper  moment.  Then,  when 
he  manifested  at  last  a  due  respect  for  figures,  on  they 
came  like  the  wind. 

In  this  race,  the  dog  being  perhaps  demoralized  by  hia 
mathematical  effort,  the  girl  actually  came  out  a  pace 
ahead,  whereat  she  clasped  her  shaggy  competitor  round 
the  neck  with  such  an  exultant  little  cry,  the  looker-ou 
could  but  laugh  in  sympathy  with  the  triumph  of  hia 
species.  Miss  Rivers,  abashed  to  have  been  discovered 
by  anybody  in  her  frisky  gambols,  straightened  herself  in 
a  breath,  and  beheld  —  whom  but  that  imposition  of  a 
minister,  as  he  strode  into  view  from  the  overarching  of 
the  huge  sand-bank ! 

That  frank,  cordial  laugh  of  Mr.  Leigh's  might  have 
re-assured  even  a  young  woman  ashamed  of  being  caught 
indulging  the  frolic  glee  of  a  child,  if  she  had  heard  it 
with  an  unprejudiced  ear.  But,  as  it  was,  this  untimely 
ecclesiastical  mirth,  "  which  any  decent  being  would  have 
suppressed,  coming  upon  people  so  unexpectedly,"  thought 
the  indignant  racer,  —  this  merriment  was  received  as  a 
fresh  outrage  by  the  much-outraged  Miss  Mouny.  And 
when  the  minister  added  to  his  "  good- morning "  the 
interrogatory  whether  she  was  getting  up  an  appetite  for 
breakfast,  it  was  a  little  too  much. 

"  I  had  my  breakfast  an  hour  and  a  half  ago,"  tersely 
replied  Miss  Rivers,  remembering  how  she  had  eaten  it  on 
a  corner  of  the  table-cloth,  abject,  and  like  a  Pariah,  to 
have  the  board  cleared  for  this  New- York  Brahmin. 

"  Indeed!"  said  the  unconscious  Brahmin,  getting  a 
rather  new  view  of  the  languid  young  lady  who  break 
fasted  at  sunrise,  and  ran  like  Atalanta  on  the  beach. 
"Do  you  breakfast  so  early  every  morning?" 

Atalanta  was  getting  her  courage  up.  Here  was  her 
opportunity.  Swallowing  timidity,  and  helped  by  her 


24  A  KEVEKEND  IDOL. 

preciously  small  opinion  of  the  stately  Samson  before 
her,  she  said  steadily,  "I  never  breakfasted  so  early 
before  you  came.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  she 
added,  indicating  a  suitable  seat  for  the  audience  on  a 
pile  of  driftwood  not  far  away. 

The  minister,  rather  surprised,  nevertheless  obeyed  the 
imperious  little  wave  of  the  feminine  hand,  and  bestowed 
himself  on  the  driftwood,  waiting  for  young  mistress  Rivers 
to  go  on  ;  and  thus  she  went :  — 

44 1  breakfast  so  early  because  you  dislike  young  ladies, 
and  because  —  the  reasons  which  make  all  other  women 
like  clergymen  do  not  take  effect  on  me." 

The  gentleman  thus  addressed  looked  blank  for  a 
moment,  and  then  —  he  was  too  radically  truthful  a  man 
for  some  hint  of  that  confusion  which  attends  on  being 
4 'found  out"  not  to  touch  visibly  his  face.  How  on 
earth  he  had  been  found  out  was  a  riddle  to  him  ;  but  such 
was  his  doom,  and  he  met  it  by  saying,  —  a  half  smile 
stealing  involuntarily  round  his  lips  as  he  surveyed  more 
attentively  the  frolicsome  sprite  of  a  moment  ago  trans 
formed  into  the  grave  young  person  who  had  seated  herself 
on  a  rock  at  the  severest  distance  at  all  compatible  with 
conversation,  —  "Pray,  what  are  some  of  those  universal 
feminine  reasons  for  liking  clergymen  which  do  not  influ 
ence  you,  since  you  feel  obliged  to  put  so  politely  your 
side  of  the  dislike?" 

44  Well,"  returned  the  calm  reasoner  on  the  rock,  "  the 
devotion  of  women  to  clergymen  is,  of  course,  not  a 
tribute  to  personal  qualities  at  all ;  because  any  one  can 
see  that  very  inferior  men,  if  they  happen  to  be  clergy 
men,  are  still  highly  honored  by  women.  It  is  a  party 
duty,  and  I  do  not  have  a  very  strong  feeling  of  my  party 
duty?" 

44  Party  duty?  "  repeated  Mr.  Leigh,  somewhat  puzzled. 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  25 

44  Certainly.  Women,  you  know,  are  not  considered  to 
have  mueh  influence  in  this  world,  except  a  moral  inilu- 
ence,  to  be  of  much  consequence,  except  to  practise 
virtues.  So  the  man  whose  business  it  is  to  proclaim 
the  importance  of  virtues  is  the  magnifier  of  their  office  ; 
ho  declares  the  dignity  of  their  existence  ;  he  may  be 
called  the  spokesman  of  their  side.  And  to  honor  your 
tpokesrnau,  and  set  him  before  all  other  men,  is  no  more 
than  what  self-respect  requires,  I  suppose,"  meditated 
Miss  Monuy,  rather  impressed  with  her  own  discovery 
that  there  was  really  something  to  say  for  this  minister- 
adoring  weakness  of  her  sex. 

44  And  you  confess  yourself  to  be  wanting  in  this  grave 
matter  of  self-respect?  "  returned  the  clergyman. 

"Yes:  I  do  not  realize  myself  enough  as  a  general 
creature,  as  a  piece  of  woman  in  the  lump,  to  feel 
bound  up  with  what  is  called  woman's  cause  in  that  way. 
Though  sometimes  I  do,"  subjoined  the  girl,  again  with 
her  naive  air  of  half  abstraction,  as  if  she  were  settling 
things  with  herself,  as  well  as  settling  the  clergyman. 
But,  recalling  the  latter  business,  she  added,  — 

"And  as  a  conceited  minister  might  imagine  that  it 
was  because  he  was  personally  more  admirable  than  other 
men  that  he  received  so  much  attention  from  women,  and 
as,  in  any  case,  there  is  an  unpleasant  effect  in  seeing  so 
many  women  devoted  to  one  man,  it  is  not  an  order  of 
things  that  I  should  wish  to  help  on." 

44  And  how  about  the  sight  of  so  many  men  devoted  to 
one  young  woman?"  rejoined  Mr.  Leigh,  not  particularly 
given  to  this  kind  of  bantering,  but  really  not  knowing 
what  else  to  say  in  this  most  extraordinary  dialogue. 

"That  is  the  proper  order,"  returned  the  belle  with 
dignity,  and  without  the  shadow  of  a  smile. 

Something  in  the   girl's  manner  indefinably  removing 


26  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

all  her  remarks  from  the  daring  of  native  impudence, 
her  listener  still  remained  attentive  on  his  log,  awaiting 
further  communications.  And  the  maiden  who  had  this 
unique  task  before  her,  of  making  a  man  perfectly  at 
ease  by  convincing  him  of  his  total  unpleasantness,  went 
on  with  it  as  she  might  by  saying,  — 

"Mr.  Leigh,  as  you  disliked  the  idea  of  my  being 
here  when  you  knew  nothing  about  me  but  that  1  was  a 
young  lady,  and  as  I  had  my  feeling  about  your  being 
here  when  I  knew  nothing  about  you  but  that  you  were 
a  clergyman,  there  is  nothing  personal  in  any  thing  that 
is  necessary  to  be  said  in  order  to  come  to  an  under 
standing.  It  is  a  class  that  happens  to  be  disliked  on 
both  sides." 

"  Certainly  it  is  a  class,"  replied  the  minister,  imitating 
the  girl's  gravity  of  tone.  "And  I  will  therefore  con 
sider  that  there  is  no  personality  in  whatever  may  still  be 
on  your  mind  to  say." 

"  What  is  on  my  mind  to  say,"  returned  Miss  Rivers, 
"  is  that  Mrs.  Doane  needs  both  her  boarders,  and  that,  if 
you  leave  her  house,  I  shall  feel  that  I  have  done  her  a 
harm.  I  would  stay  out  of  your  way,  if  I  could,  at  all 
times  ;  but,  as  at  meal-times  it  will  not  be  possible  for  me 
to  do  so  much  longer,  I  thought  if  you  could  understand 
that  I  shall  consider  it  perfectly  fair  for  you  to  remain 
here  and  take  no  notice  of  me  as  a  class  that  you  dis 
like  "  — said  Monny,  pausing  a  little  to  steady  her  voice, 
for  this  manner  of  speech  was  too  unwonted  to  her  to  be 
maintained  without  some  inward  effort. 

"I  perceive,"  said  Mr.  Leigh,  with  his  penetrating 
glance  reading  the  face  of  the  girl  who  had  succeeded  in 
adding  a  new  variety  to  his  extremely  larg-e  experience  of 
feminine  interviews,  —  "I  perceive  that  you  have  a  very 
brave  and  unselfish  regard  for  Mrs.  Doane  ;  and  I  hereby 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  27 

agree  to  continue  to  represent  in  her  house  the  class  that 
you  dislike,"  he  said,  with  a  humorous  sparkle  in  his  rye. 
Then  rising  from  his  log,  he  bowed  good-morning  with 
tne  amused  tolerance  of  a  man  taken  to  task  by  a  child 
(he  had  lost  all  impression  of  his  fellow-boarder  as  a 
young  lady) ,  and  went  on  his  way.  In  a  moment  more 
the  sea  and  sky,  and  the  gathering  shape  of  a  new  sermon, 
quite  absorbed  his  thoughts,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  ladies, 
—  young  or  old.  Save,  perhaps,  as  he  looked  out  oil 
the  wide  sweep  of  the  Atlantic,  there  may  have  come 
some  passing  thought  of  a  certain  lady  on  the  other  side 
of  it  who  would  be  coming  home  ere  long,  —  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt,  a  widow  of  thirty-five,  belonging  to  his  own 
church  in  New  York.  .  He  had  had  passing  thoughts  of 
that  lady  for  four  years. 

On  the  very  first  sabbath  of  his  preaching  as  installed 
rector  of  St.  Ancient's,  glancing  over  his  new  flock  while 
the  choir  chanted  the  opening  anthem  of  the  service,  his 
eyes  fell  on  a  most  queenly  lady,  whose  face,  with  its  lumi 
nous  pale  complexion,  jet-black  hair,  long- fringed  gray 
eyes,  and  incomparably  beautiful  curves  of  lip  and  cheek 
and  chin,  was  indeed  a  face  to  stand  out  from  all  others, 
and  one  which  brought  instantly  into  Kenyon  Leigh's 
mind  the  lines  of  Michael  Angelo's  sonnet  to  Vittoria 
Colonna :  — 

"If  it  be  true  that  any  beauteous  thing 
Raises  the  pure  and  just  desire  of  man 
From  earth  to  God,  the  eternal  Fount  of  all, 
Such  I  believe  my  love  "  — 

This  "  beauteous  thing,'*  whose  type  of  loveliness 
stirred  emotions  which  rose  so  accordant  with  the  chants 
of  the  temple,  was,  in  reality,  one  of  the  very  worldliest  of 
mortals.  But  the  minister  had  never  discovered  this  in 
all  his  after-kaowledge  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt .  he  Ind 


28  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

found  many  things  in  her,  on  personal  acquaintance,  which 
distinctly  pleased  him,  besides  her  peerless  face.  If  her 
elegant  manners,  •  for  instance,  were  somewhat  cold,  a 
touch  of  the  frosty  Caucasus  was  not  without  its  charm  to 
a  man  who  had  had  rather  too  abundant  experience  of 
feminine  gushing. 

Nevertheless,  after  four  years  time,  Mr.  Leigh  had  still 
only  passing  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt ;  for,  finally, 
»he  had  only  pleased  his  taste.  But  she  had  gone  on 
pleasing  his  taste  now  for  four  years,  and  he  had  never 
been  in  love  in  his  life.  All  the  ordinary  triflings  with 
sentiment,  his  profession  and  his  peculiarly  flattered  posi 
tion  in  it  had  utterly  deterred  him  from  and  given  him  a 
distaste  for ;  and  a  serious  passion  had  never  befallen 
him.  So  that,  without  belonging  by  nature  among  those 
defective  beings  —  more  or  less  defective,  and  below  the 
highest  type  of  humanity,  however  wide  a  name  some  of 
them  may  have  left  on  the  earth  —  whose  sympathies  flow 
warmly  only  in  some  universal  channels,  whose  affections 
are  all  satisfied  with  the  diffusive  benevolence  of  a  philan 
thropy,  a  reform,  a  religious  mission,  —  without  being 
originally  one  of  these  men  to  whom  marriage  is  intrinsi 
cally  a  mistake  and  a  burden,  Kenyon  Leigh  had  yet 
grown  into  such  a  relation  to  his  work,  that  it  had  been 
quite  possible  that  he  might  come  among  these  characters 
at  last.  Just  now,  however,  it  was  more  possible,  it  was 
even  highly  probable,  that  he  would  do  far  worse.  The 
woman  to  whom  he  stood  uncommitted  as  yet  by  word  or 
deed,  or  even  look,  was,  nevertheless,  subtly  and  steadily 
drawing  him  in. 

Thackeray  makes  an  assertion  somewhere  in  one  of  his 
famous  i.ovels,  to  the  effect  that  any  woman  who  has  not 
a  positive  hump  can  marry  any  man,  let  her  have  oppor 
tunity  enough  to  meet  him,  and  devote  herself  to  her  end 


A   REVEKEND   IDOL.  29 

with  sufficient  strategy  and  determination.  With  no 
humps,  and  with  infinite  opportunity,  strategy,  and  re 
solve,  the  beautiful  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  pursued  the 
famous  preacher  as  a  husband  (by  no  means  in  that  crowd 
of  poor  simple  ladies  who  pursued  him  openly)  for  the 
last  four  years.  And  this  likely-to-be-successful  pursuer 
was  the  one  woman  in  all  the  train  who  was  so  far  from 
truly  loving  Kcnyon  Leigh  that  she  did  not  even  believe 
in  him. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  brought  out  of  her  former 
married  experience  —  it  had  been  an  experience  of  ten 
years,  long  enough  to  frame  comprehensive  theories  in  — 
a  thorough  disbelief  in  all  men.  And  not  only  her  minis 
ter  made  no  exception  to  her  general  unfaith  in  his  sex, 
but  she  disbelieved  in  him  even  more  than  in  the  average 
of  men.  Not  that  she  in  the  least  suspected  the  Kev. 
Kcnyon  Leigh  of  hypocrisy,  —  of  leading,  or  of  ever  hav 
ing  led,  any  life  but  that  which  he  seemed  to  lead.  Just 
the  life  which  he  really  led,  precisely  the  man  that  he  was 
and  seemed  to  be,  had  irritated,  nay,  angered  her,  scores 
of  times.  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  disbelief  in  men  was  a 
disbelief  in  them  as  husbands.  She  held  a  fixed  creed 
that  all  men  were  too  supremely  absorbed  in  something 
elde  ever  to  be  absorbed  in  a  wife  beyond  some  briefest 
little  time  of  courtship  and  early  marriage.  Her  first 
husband  had  been  absorbed  in  her  for  just  that  short 
space,  and  no  more.  Then  had  appeared  the  fundamental 
masculine  nature, — a  nature  whose  interests,  comforts, 
pleasures,  were  all  in  things  which  women  cared  little  or 
nothing  about, — a  surprisingly  alien,  fickle,  selfish,  un 
satisfactory  genus. 

Mr.  Van  Cortlandt  had,  in  truth,  been  very  much  in 
love  with  his  wife  when  he  married  her,  thinking  her 
beauty  divine,  as  indeed  it  was.  Her  beauty  had  ncvei 


30  A   Pv  EVER  END   IDOL. 

faded,  but  his  affection  undeniably  had.  She  had  not 
poisoned  him  :  he  had  had  the  best  medica.  care  in  his 
last  illness,  which  was  malarial  fever,  of  which  he  had 
died  at  Rome,  a  perfectly  natural  death,  about  a  year 
before  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  first  beheld  the  famous  new 
rector  of  St.  Ancient's. 

A  being  who  has  lost  capacity  to  live  by  the  heart  and 
its  simple  joys  may  be  ail  the  more  prone  to  live  by  the 
fancy  and  its  most  fantastic  caprice  ;  and  the  widow  took 
so  strong  a  caprice  for  this  invulnerable  minister  as  to 
set  up  an  establishment  in  New  York,  to  the  abandonment 
of  all  her  previous  plans  for  existence.  These  had  been, 
to  make  her  permanent  residence  abroad,  where  she  had 
brilliant  social  introductions,  and  where,  with  her  unworn 
beauty  and  the  large  wealth  left  her  by  her  incompatible 
first  husband,  she  wi*3  quite  in  a  position  to  marry  a  title. 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  was  a  denationalized  American  whom 
it  would  scarcely  be  correct  to  speak  of  as  aping  the 
style  of  the  European  nobility,  so  perfectly  had  she 
assimilated,  as  the  natural  food  of  her  pride,  whatever 
was  external  in  the  tastes  and  habits  of  the  titled  circles 
that  she  had  long  moved  in  abroad.  But  being  learned 
in  life  now,  —  life  with  husbands,  —  she  decided,  for  a 
strange  jumble  of  reasons,  to  marry  Kenyon  Leigh  before 
any  other  man  in  the  two  hemispheress  and  for  a  man  of 
the  Western  Hemisphere,  she  reasoned,  his  ancestry  on 
both  sides  was  as  nearly  noble  as  possible.  The  man 
himself  took  the  proud  woman's  fancy  as  a  kind  of  mon 
arch  :  what  she  herself  would  have  styled  a  true  imperial 
sway,  she  saw  that  he  exercised  over  most  men  who  came 
in  contact  with  him. 

It  was  true,  indeed,  that  Kenyon  Leigh  had  a  great 
personal  power, — a  power,  too,  which  was  quite  separable 
from  his  moral  excellence,  or  even  his  intellectual  gifts. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  31 

For  he  gave  some  impression  as  of  an  instinctive  un  ler- 
standing  of  all  human  experience,  joined  with  a  certain 
invincible  calm  which  is  the  mood  of  the  highest  courage  ; 
and  such  men,  whether  they  be  good  or  bad,  seem  always 
to  draw  human  beings  to  themselves  as  with  a  kind  of 
enchanter's  spell.  There  is  something,  perhaps,  in  the 
calm  of  these  wide-seeing  natures,  which  acts  re-assuringly 
on  the  general  human  heart.  One  feels  that  they  have 
looked  on  all  the  terror  of  existence,  and  yet  live  ;  and 
mortals  follow  them  as  if  to  learn  their  secret ;  and  this 
when  the  Olympic  tranquillity  which  so  fascinates  may  be 
that  of  fatalism  rather  than  of  faith,  and  their  intuitive 
knowledge  of  all  that  mortal  spirits  bear,  not  of  the  true 
strain  of  sympathy.  Thus  one  or  two  of  the  great  con 
querors  of  the  world  —  men  pitiless  in  their  ambitions, 
and  largely  material  in  their  aims  —  appear  certainly  to 
have  had  some  form  of  this  strange  personal  power. 
They  compelled  all  creatures  to  their  will,  not  so  much  by 
outward  violence  as  by  a  mysterious  inward  force,  a 
something  which  invincibly  attached  men  to  their  for 
tunes  ;  and  this  by  a  bond  which  was  not  one  of  interest, 
nor  yet  of  what  we  ordinarily  call  love  or  fear.  The  old 
stories  always  current  —  of  the  invulnerability  of  these 
heroes,  that  they  bore  charmed  lives  which  bullets  could 
not  touch  —  seem  to  point  to  this  same  impression  which 
uiey  diffused,  —  of  being  masters  of  fate  itself ;  and  all 
weaker  spirits  gathered  to  them  perforce,  as  if  to  share 
in*  that  great  conquering. 

.Never  was  a  more  unconscious  possessor  of  this  per 
sonal  power  than  Kenyon  Leigh :  we  should  say  a  more 
unwilling  possessor  of  it,  if  he  had  been  at  all  aware  of 
the  gift.  He  was  no  demigod  of  war,  seeking  to  draw 
the  strength  of  a  million  men  to  strike  through  his  single 
arm  :  he  was  a  preacher  who  wanted  people  to  see  the 


32  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

truth,  and  not  himself.  For,  of  all  kinds  of  hero-worship^ 
that  most  abhorrent  to  him  to  be  the  object  of  was  min 
ister-worship.  The  absolutely  delicate  and  generous  spirit 
has  always  an  especial  sense  of  confusion  in  receiving 
adulation  for  any  thing  in  the  line  of  what  can  be  called 
moral  services.  The  truly  benevolent  man  does  not  like 
to  be  praised  for  his  charitable  gifts ;  still  less  the  truly 
religious  man,  for  his  piety  or  pious  eloquence.  Thus  in 
his  private  intercourse  this  minister  would  sometimes  turn 
on  an  indiscreet  flatterer  such  an  icily  cold  shoulder  as 
only  outraged  shyness  can  do.  He  had  the  sensitive  per 
sonal  reserve  which  belongs  to  most  fine  natures,  and 
this,  joined  with  an  intense  manliness,  made  something 
extreme  in  his  recoil  from  that  position  of  a  pet  which 
there  is  some  disposition  to  place  an  admired  minister  in. 
And  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  saw  this  most  simple-hearted  of 
men  as  a  personage  who  sat  solitary  on  a  throne,  at  once 
attracting  general  worship,  and  profoundly  scorning  the 
worshippers.  It  was  her  very  beau  ideal  of  a  superior 
being. 

If  Mr.  Leigh's  independence  of  all  men  took  her  fancy, 
still  more  did  his  even  greater  independence  of  all  women. 
It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  look  closely  into  any  such 
line  of  questions  as  whether  Mr.  Van  Cortlandt  (this  gen 
tleman  had  inherited  his  wealth,  and  had  spent  most  of 
his  married  life  in  European  capitals  and  in  very  elegant 
leisure)  had  amused  himself  unlawfully  with  other  fair 
female  society  when  his  wife's  had  quite  ceased  to  amuse 
him.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  tale  to  note  that  it  was  in 
the  nature  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  and  in  all  her  modes 
of  belief,  to  be  intensely  jealous  of  the  man  over  whose 
heart  she  had  lost  power,  whether  he  gave  her  this  cause 
or  not.  So  it  was  a  matter  of  great  account  with  her,  that, 
in  marrying  Mr.  Leigh,  she  would  be  forever  guaranteed 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  33 

from  rivals  in  other  women,  both  by  his  profession  and  his 
extreme  non-susceptibility  to  feminine  attractions.  This 
latter  trait  in  the  man  she  recognized  well,  and  that  his 
total  eacupe  from  all  entanglements  in  the  flatteries  of 
women  was  due  quite  as  much  to  his  idiosyncrasies  as  to 
his  prudence. 

The  widow  had  studied  all  his  idiosyncrasies  for  years, 
and  she  believed  that  she  knew  Kenyon  Leigh  by  heart : 
in  fact,  she  knew  him  every  way  but  by  heart.  It  is  only 
some  outward  husk  and  rind  of  the  truth  that  the  keenest 
unsympathetic  search  into  a  human  soul  ever  attains  to. 

The  lady  over  the  water  was  not  in  the  minister's 
thoughts,  as  we  have  said,  this  morning,  save  for  a  pass 
ing  moment  as  he  looked  over  the  sea,  because  those 
thoughts  were  engrossed  with  a  new  sermon.  He  woke 
out  of  it  for  a  moment,  however,  as  springing  up  the  high 
bank  again,  after  a  half-mile  or  more  on  the  beach  to 
return  to  his  lodgings  by  another  way  than  that  he  had 
come,  he  recognized  Capt.  Gawthrop.  This  retired  salt, 
living  in  a  good-sized  house,  being  somewhat  impecuni 
ous,  a  great  gossip,  and  knowing  the  Cape  withal  from 
end  to  end,  was  extremely  fond  of  taking  metropolitan 
boarders,  and  was  naturally  hoping  this  morning  to  secure 
the  new  arrival  from  New  York,  who  had  made  those 
inquiries  at  his  house  the  night  before.  But  this  hope 
was  doomed  to  disappointment ;  for  Mr.  Leigh  walked  up 
to  him  with  the  announcement  that  he  should  remaia 
Jirough  the  season  at  Mrs.  Doane's. 


34  A  REVEBEND   IDOL. 


CHAPTER  m. 

u  r  I  ^HAT  minister  is  going  to  stay.     I've  bad  a,  talk 

-L  with  him  down  on  the  beach,  and  it's  settled,''' 
cried  Monny,  who  with  her  companion,  Duke  George, — 
an  immense  Newfoundland  dog  of  a  breed  brought  home 
long  years  before  by  Capt.  Doane,  —  had  rushed  directly 
for  Mrs.  Doane's  house,  after  her  rencounter  with  Mr. 
Leigh,  to  relieve  the  anxiety  there  with  this  announcement. 

"  Bless  you,  child !  "  said  the  pleased  widow,  who  was 
found  in  the  young  lady's  own  chamber,  bestowing  fresh 
towels  on  the  rack.  "  I  knew  he  would  like  you  as  soon 
as  he  got  the  least  acquainted  with  you." 

"Like  me!  He  has  the  worst  opinion  of  me,  and  1 
have  the  worst  opinion  of  him,  —  the  very  worst ;  and 
that's  the  contract,"  declared  the  maiden,  bringing  down 
her  pink  palm  on  the  pate  of  Duke  George,  who  having 
placed  himself  upright  on  his  haunches,  close  to  her  chair, 
held  his  nose  aloft  with  the  air  of  a  witness  ready  to 
testify  to  all  points. 

"  You  needn't  worry,  aunt  Persy,  thinking  he  was 
dissatisfied  with  the  house,  or  with  you,  —  not  a  bit.  1 
was  really  the  whole  trouble:  I  saw  it  the  moment  I 
accused  him.  And  of  all  the  spoilt,  spoilt  peacocks,  even 
among  popular  ministers,  he  must  be  the  crown,"  cried 
the  belle,  emphasizing  this  time  on  Duke  George's  crown 
with  a  fervor  which  she  atoned  for  by  sundry  softer  pats 
and  pulling  of  the  ears,  which  caresses  he  laid  his  head  in 
her  lap  the  more  deeply  to  enjoy. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  35 

"Why,  what  ever  have  you  accused  him  of,  child?" 
asked  Mrs.  Doane,  aghast.  "Truly,  my  dear,  although 
he  has  been  rather  strange  about  this,  I  do  think  lie  is 
a  very  uncommon,  grand  kind  of  a  man,  —  I  mean  a  good 
one,  as  well  as  a  famous." 

Miss  Rivers,  who  had  not  the  least  respect  at  present  for 
the  New- York  minister's  fame,  and  who  had  very  decided 
views  as  to  his  goodness,  here  made  a  sudden  move,  out 
of  the  chair  into  which  she  had  dropped,  to  the  next 
room,  calling  the  widow,  as  if  to  show  her  something 
there.  For  naturally  she  did  not  wish  the  latter  to  know 
what  argument  she  had  made  with  the  clerical  boarder  for 
her  sake.  Mrs.  Doane,  believing  from  the  girl's  habitual 
politeness  that  she  could  have  said  nothing  amiss  to  Mr. 
Leigh,  accordingly  put  away  her  surplus  towels,  and, 
dropping  the  ministerial  question,  followed  Miss  Rivers 
into  the  east  chamber,  as  the  square  front  room  on  this 
side  of  the  house  was  especially  called.  There  was  no 
bed  in  this  apartment  at  present ;  but  paintings  in  oil  and 
water-colors,  and  drawings  in  every  thing,  in  all  stages 
of  completion,  figures  rather  than  landscapes,  filled  the 
room. 

"  It's  a  born  miracle,  like  all  your  pictures  !  "  exclaimed 
the  widow,  surveying  the  canvas  on  the  easel,  to  which 
Monny  h.id  called  her  attention  merely  to  divert  it  from 
closer  inquiry  into  her  conversation  with  Mr.  Leigh. 
u  How  long  are  you  going  on,  dear,  doing  these  wonder 
ful  things,  and  letting  nobody  know  but  your  aunt  and 
uncle,  and  forbidding  even  them  to  show  your  pictures 
to  anybody?"  said  Mrs.  Doane. 

"Till  I  get  a  little  surer  that  I  am  truly  fit  to  paint 
pictures,"  replied  the  girl. 

"As  if  the  Lord  didn't  make  you  fit  to  paint  pictures 
when  you  came  into  the  world !  for  I've  always  heard 


36  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Mary  Ann  tell  of  your  drawing  pictures  all  over  the  walls, 
and  everywhere,  before  you  could  talk  plain ;  and  now, 
when  with  half  a  dozen  strokes  you  can  make  the  per- 
fectest  likeness  of  any  face  you  see  !  " 

u  O  aunt  Persis  !  that  isn't  painting  true  pictures  at  all. 
I  can  make  a  likeness  of  a  wooden  kind,  without  thinking 
a  thought.  That  comes  natural  to  me.  I  could  always 
do  that.  Besides,  old  Monsieur  Durocher  that  I've  told 
you  of,  who  was  so  poor  and  discouraged  that  he  came 
to  be  drawing-master  in  my  boarding-school,  —  he  was  a 
thoroughly  trained  French  artist ;  and  he  taught  me  like 
a  faithful,  furious  angel  two  whole  years.  It  was  he,  I 
suppose,  who  first  got  me  in  the  way  of  hiding  my  work 
so ;  that  is,  he  kept  me  always  doing  hard  studies,  never 
letting  me  finish  any  thing  like  a  picture  fit  to  show.  He 
said  I  would  be  praised  too  soon,  and  spoilt. 

"  You  see,  he  beat  into  me,  when  I  was  very  young,  all 
his  own  ideas  about  art,  which  were  very  high  and  true 
ones ;  and  he  used  to  scare  me  so  with  scoldings,  and 
praise  me  so  beautifully  in  streaks,  I  could  not  help 
learning  true  drawing  and  color,  just  like  a  man.  Yes, 
he  said  that  he  taught  me  as  thoroughly  as  if  I  was  a 
man,  and  that  it  was  a  thousand  shames  that  I  wasn't 
one.  You  see,  even  he  seemed  to  think  it  the  most  unac 
countable  strange  mixture  that  I  should  be  a  girl,  just 
like  other  girls,  and  yet  serious  in  trying  to  paint  pic 
tures.  But,  if  it  is  my  nature  to  be  so  mixed,  how  am  I 
going  to  get  away  from  my  nature?''  asked  Monny, 
looking  up  with  a  childlike  appeal  to  this  old  woman, 
with  whom  she  talked  much  in  her  mere  young  need  of 
utterance. 

"Seeing,  child,  that  it  has  pleased  Heaven  to  mix 
your  nature  of  very  uncommon  gifts,  I  should  say  'twas 
one  to  be  very  thankful  for.  And  your  pictures  would 


A   KEVEREND   IDOL.  37 

certain  be  taken  the  greatest  notice  of  in  these  days, 
when  there's  so  much  said  about  women's  talents  and 
their  rights." 

44  Why,  that's  just  my  worst  trouble,"  quickly  replied 
the  girl,  —  "all  that  I  read  about  woman's  sphere,  etc. 
You  see,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  painted  so  many  years 
now,  I  have  really  been  thinking  lately,  especially  this 
summer,  that  I  would  finish  up  two  or  three  of  my  pictures 
that  I  am  the  least  dissatisfied  with,  and  send  them  some 
where  to  be  exhibited,  —  without  my  real  name,  you  know. 
And  when  I  began  to  think  about  this,  I  began  to  read 
every  thing  I  saw  on  what  is  called  the  4  Woman  Ques 
tion.'  I  had  never  noticed  such  articles  much  before; 
for  they  did  not  look  very  interesting,  and  I  thought  they 
were  all  about  women's  voting,  — and  I've  never  wanted 
to  vote,  —  or  about  their  being  lawyers  and  doctors  and 
ministers ;  which  I'm  sure  I  don't  want  to  be.  But  I 
read  all  women 's-rights  articles,  whether  for  or  against, 
very  carefully  indeed  now ;  and  the  whole  subject  grows 
a  great  trouble  to  me,"  said  the  maiden  pensively.  "  For 
men  that  I  can  see  are  truly  able  men,  who  have  studied 
and  thought  a  great  deal,  and  who  seem  to  wish  the  world 
to  go  right,  and  not  wrong,  yet  say  things  about  women 
ard  their  place  which  discourage  me  dreadfully  about 
painting  pictures. 

41  You  know,  aunt  Persy,"  Monny  went  on,  laying 
down  her  palette-knife,  4'  in  order  to  do  your  best  at  any 
thing,  you  want  to  feel,  first,  that  the  work  is  worthy  to 
be  done  ;  and,  second,  that  it  is  a  worthy,  a  right  thing 
in  yourself  to  try  to  do  it.  Now,  that  last  point  is  where 
I  get  no  assurance  from  literature  ;  and  literature  is  the 
only  means  I  have  by  which  to  find  out  what  the  serious 
minds  of  the  world,  the  minds  that  I  should  wish  to  be 
approved  of,  think  about  things.  So  far  as  I  can  make 


88  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

out  their  sentiments,  it  appears  that  most  of  them  would 
not  believe  in  women's  painting  pictures  at  all ;  that  is, 
they  lay  down  such  and  such  qualities  as  the  proper 
feminine  nature,  which,  they  say,  are  not  the  qualities 
to  make  good  artists,  poets,  etc.  So  you  see,  a  woman 
is  placed  in  this  dreadful  strait,  that,  if  by  any  chance  she 
should  do  what  was  confessed  to  be  a  really  good  work 
of  art,  her  very  success  would  imply  that  she  was  some 
how  out  of  the  proper  feminine  nature.  That  is.  your 
picture  must  be  poor,  because  you  are  a  woman ;  or  you 
are  a  very  poor  kind  of  woman,  if  it  is  good." 

"  Bless  you,  child  !  "  said  the  matron,  surveying  in  her 
manifold  feminine  charm  the  maiden  who  thus  summed 
up  her  "dreadful  strait,"  —  "nobody  would  ever  think 
of  calling  you  a  poor  kind  of  a  woman.  And  seeing  you 
care  so  much,  as  is  right  you  should  do,  for  the  opinions 
of  serious  minds,  if  you  would  only  let  me  show  your 
pictures  to  this  famous  minister  "  — 

"Mercy!  I  don't  mean  minister  seriousness,"  cried 
Momiy.  "  I  mean  the  men  who  write  the  solid  reviews 
and  essays,  —  the  men  who  have  deep  knowledge  about 
this  world,  and  what  is  right  and  true  to  do  in  it." 

"Indeed  ! "  said  the  pious  Orthodox  woman,  with  some 
admonition  in  her  voice.  "And  what  is  the  whole  call 
ing  of  ministers  but  to  tell  us  what  is  right  and  true  to 
do?" 

"Oh,  y-e-s !  "  assented  Monuy  rather  slowly,  being 
infected,  young  as  she  was,  with  so  much  of  our  day's 
distrust  of  the  institutional  as  to  look  even  for  her  chief 
ethical  guidance  elsewhere  than  to  the  pulpit,  although 
its  ministrations  had  her  regular  Sunday  attendance. 
"Yes.  But  perhaps  the  way  of  the  world  has  changed 
since  the  way  of  sermons  began,  that  mostly  I  seem  to 
get  more  practical  light  from  the  men  of  thought  and  high 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  39 

principle  who  write  about  subjects  of  this  earth,  that  you 
haven't  got  to  die  in  order  to  find  out  the  truth  of." 

u  Well,  my  dear,  we  shall  want  something  for  a  dying 
hour  too ;  and  since,  for  all  your  gay  life,  Miss  Mouny, 
I  have  always  found  you  to  be  a  very  conscientious  girl, 
and  one  showing  a  proper  respect  to  holy  things  and 
ministers"  — 

"  This  minister  isn't  a  holy  thing  !  "  cried  Miss  Money 
with  disdain.  "He  is  one  of  those  preachers,  who,  what 
with  his  size,  can  lead  captive  silly  women,  of  course, 
as  was  said  of  some  famous  preacher,  if  he  only  says 
4  Mesopotamia.'  He  can't  have  any  true  eloquence,  be 
cause  he's  a  humbug  himself.  Oh,  yes,  he  is  !  "  insisted 
Monny,  as  the  matron  showed  signs  of  expostulating. 
"A  light-minded  man  in  a  serious  profession  is  a  hum 
bug  ;  and  no  talents  can  make  him  otherwise.  And  if  it 
isn't  light-minded  for  a  man  to  be  so  outrageously  vain 
as  to  suppose  that  a  girl  can't  eat  breakfast  with  him 
without  falling  in  love  with  him,  and  he  an  old  bachelor 
minister  "  — 

u  Now,  now,  my  dear,  nobody  would  call  Mr.  Leigh  an 
old  bachelor." 

"Why,  he  is  as  much  as  thirty,"  rejoined  Monny,  sur 
veying  that  period  of  life  from  her  decade  on  the  sunny 
side  of  it.  "  Not  as  old  as  he  ought  to  be,  of  course," 
she  pronounced,  with  her  views  as  to  the  duty  of  ministers 
to  be  venerable,  "  but  old  enough,  and  I  should  think  big 
enough,  to  be  sober-minded ;  which  he  isn't.  And  as  foi 
»etting  him  see  my  pictures,  he  is  the  very  last  being  in  the 
universe  that  I  would  allow  to  see  them,  and  I  shall  keep 
the  door  of  this  room  fast  locked  every  minute  while  he 
stays  here.  And  I  shall  wish  you  to  be  very  careful,  aunt 
Persy,  not  to  drop  a  syllable  to  let  him  know  that  I  have 
ever  touched  a  paint-brush  in  my  life." 


40  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

uOh,  there's  the  butcher's  bells!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Doaue,  —  for  a  string  of  bells  round  his  horse's  neck 
heralds  the  Cape-Cod  butcher ;  and,  trusting  to  time 
to  reconcile  her  boarders,  the  matron  rushed  down  stairs 
to  provide  for  dinner. 

The  young  artist  thus  left  alone  set  seriously  to  wc.rk. 
This  old  house  having  been  a  kind  of  deposit  for  years 
of  her  efforts  in  art,  there  were  many  big  canvases  in  the 
room,  crowded  with  conceptions  daringly  impossible  for  so 
young  a  hand  and  brain  to  execute,  fettered,  too,  by  all 
those  innumerable  hamperings  incident  to  the  secrecy  with 
which  she  pursued  her  art.  There  were  elaborate  groups 
out  of  poet  and  romancer,  and  the  girl's  own  wild  head  ; 
but  through  all  these  prodigal  attempts  —  sketched,  half 
painted,  and  abandoned  —  could  be  traced  a  steady  growth 
of  power,  and  of  wisdom,  at  last,  to  choose  the  simpler 
theme.  Thus  the  picture  at  present  on  her  easel,  which 
she  was  working  up  from  a  smaller  sketch  made  from  the 
life,  and  evidently  the  life  of  this  region,  had  but  a  single 
figure,  —  merely  an  infirm  old  fisherman  pulling  up  a  boat 
before  a  threatening  storm.  Yet  the  strip  of  lone  marshy 
shore,  the  rising  wind  in  the  sky,  the  passion  of  the  far- 
struggling  sea,  with  the  worn-out  old  mariner  pausing  in 
his  broken  strength  to  look  out  upon  it,  and  realize  that  he 
could  cope  with  sea  and  storm  no  more,  —  these  simple 
elements  were  not  only  rendered  with  rare  technical  skill, 
but  so  rendered,  that  the  mystery  of  Nature's  eternal 
eneigy,  and  the  ephemeral  life  of  man,  brooded  solemn 
and  pathetic  over  all  the  canvas. 

The  girl  who  could  do  these  things  had  toiled  with  the 
tireless  patience  of  true  genius  ;  and,  if  she  had  had  no 
one  to  encourage  her  among  her  natural  protectors,  she 
r.ad  had  the  next  best  thing,  — no  one  to  interfere.  Her 
father,  Endicott  Rivers,  came  of  one  of  the  oldest,  and, 


A   KEVEREND   IDOL.  41 

in  former  generations,  most  illustrious,  of  New-England 
families ;  and  in  young  P^ndicott  himself  the  original 
vigor  of  the  stoek,  which  had  somewhat  lapsed  in  his 
immediate  ancestors,  gave  marked  promise  of  return. 
His  brilliantly  opening  life,  however,  was  cut  tragically 
short  when  he  was  scarce  twenty-five  years  old,  by  a 
sudden  explosion  in  a  Western  mine,  into  which  he  had 
descended  from  a  traveller's  curiosity  ;  and  his  young  wife 
had  died  a  few  months  after  from  the  anguish  of  this 
bereavement,  leaving  baby  Anemone  —  which  romantic 
name  became  Monny,  for  short  —  scarcely  a  year  old. 
The  child  thus  orphaned  had  been  reared  in  the  home 
of  her  father's  sister,  Mrs.  Helen  Rivers  Slabwell.  This 
lady  (she  was  more  than  a  dozen  years  older  than  her 
lost  brother,  Endicott)  had  not  inherited  very  strongly 
herself  from  the  intellectual  side  of  her  distinguished 
forefathers.  But,  if  she  had  very  little  force  of  brain  or 
character,  she  had  a  radical  refinement  of  feeling  and 
habit,  a  grace  of  gentle  breeding,  which  never  forsook 
her,  although  she  had  been  considered  to  take  a  very 
long  step  downward  in  her  marriage.  The  Slabwell 
mesalliance  had  proved,  however,  a  truly  happy  union  on 
both  sides.  Indeed,  as  observers  will  have  noted,  in 
marriages  where  there  is  some  superiority  on  the  side  of 
the  wife,  if  she  has  the  tact  to  prevent  this  from  becom 
ing  the  ugliest  of  situations,  there  often  resides  a  pecul 
iarity  enduring  element  of  charm.  King  Cophetua  may 
grow  remiss  in  attentions  to  his  beggar-maid ;  but  the 
page  who  marries  the  princess  is  likely  to  hold  out  in  the 
spirit  of  consideration. 

The  princess  in  this  case,  Miss  Helen  Rivers,  had  been 
extremely  short  of  revenues  when  the  plebeian  John  Slab- 
well,  whose  revenues  were  rapidly  rising  through  shrewd 
investments  in  lumber,  first  beheld  the  lady,  and  decided, 


42  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

that,  unless  he  could  spend  on  her  the  money  tyhich  it  had 
thus  far  been  the  sole  object  of  his  existence  to  make, 
that  existence  would  be  to  him  thenceforth  and  forever 
a  futile  and  disgusting  rack.  There  was  an  objecting 
father,  and  the  lady  herself  at  first  objected ;  but  finally 
the  sheer  infatuation  of  the  suitor,  who  had  schemed  day 
and  night,  raised  heaven  and  earth,  to  devise  orderly 
means  whereby  to  pursue  the  mere  chance  acquaintance 
which  some  little  accident  of  travel  had  given  him  with 
the  lady  born  so  far  out  of  his  circle,  —  this  infatuation 
touched  the  feminine  heart.  For  among  the  men  of  her 
own  circle  (although  she  had  not  been  wholly  neglected  by 
them)  Miss  Helen  had  never  had  a  truly  infatuated  lover, 
as  she  had  nothing  in  herself  which  the  general  masculine 
verdict  would  have  pronounced  striking  attractions  of 
either  person  or  mind,  and  she  had  lost  all  the  prestige 
of  surroundings  by  the  nearly  total  ruin  of  her  father's 
fortunes  just  as  she  was  entering  on  young  womanhood. 
In  short,  she  decided  to  marry  this  one  adorer,  who  was 
an  adorer  indeed  (the  objecting  father  being  finally  re 
duced),  and  she  never  regretted  the  step. 

Mr.  John  Slabwell  was  an  American  citizen  whom 
re-action  from  the  grim  Puritan  theology  had  left  with  no 
religion  ;  large  disbelief  in  the  politicians  of  his  own  party, 
and  total  disbelief  in  those  ~t  the  other,  with  no  patri 
otism  ;  conviction  that  there  was  a  native  and  ineradicable 
tendency  in  a  certain  class  of  human  beings  .to  dirt,  rags, 
and  six  families  in  a  room,  with  no  social  science  ;  narrow 
earl}''  education,  and  life  engrossed  thereafter  in  money- 
making,  with  no  taste  for  reading  any  thing  but  news 
papers.  There  was  but  one  spiritual  pole  to  his  being ; 
viz.,  a  very  especial  consideration  for  women.  This  sav 
ing  trait  had  kept  remarkably  upright  in  various  directions 
a  moral  constitution  which  might  not  otherwise  have  been 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  43 

very  strongly  based.  Thus  he  was  as  severe  as  any  Puri 
tan  on  all  masculine  vices  and  dissipations,  as  having  a 
verj  direct  tendency  to  make  women  unhappy.  One  vital 
objection  he  still  saw  to  men's  going  to  the  devil,  —  the 
wrecks  of  women  that  would  strew  their  way.  To  the 
man  with  this  soft  chivalric  spot  in  his  hard  Yankee  com 
position,  his  lady- wife  was  just  helpless  enough  to  be 
endearing.  Then  the  repose  which  there  had  been  no 
space  for  in  his  own  life,  the  leisure  which  tie  would  not 
have  known  what  to  do  with  personally,  he  had  a  delight 
ful  sense  of  drinking  in,  ready  sublimated,  as  it  were, 
in  the  atmosphere  of  a  woman  whose  graceful  step  very 
few  earthly  occurrences  could  hasten,  whose  very  words 
came  forth  with  a  gentle  slowness  which  might  have 
wrought  on  some  husbands,  in  impetuous  moments,  with 
any  thing  but  soothing  effect.  As  for  the  lady,  however 
unlike  she  always  remained  to  her  husband  in  outward 
style  and  bearing,  she  never  assumed  the  remotest  air  of 
a  porcelain  vase  swimming  down  the  stream  with  an  iron 
pot.  Having  once  decided  to  become  Mrs.  Slab  well,  her 
very  respect  for  traditions  made  her  loyal  to  the  doctrine, 
as  decidedly  one  of  the  oldest  of  traditions,  that  the  hus 
band  is  the  head  of  the  wife.  She  dropped  all  her  old 
social  alfiliations  with  her  marriage  ;  which  she  did  the 
more  easily  as  her  early  married  home  was  set  up,  not  in 
the  city,  but  at  just  that  suburban  distance  from  it  which 
seems  to  enable  one  to  arrange  life  without  any  dependence 
on  society  at  all.  At  least,  Mrs.  Slabwell  found  sufficient 
variety  for  her  tranquil  tastes  in  the  daily  going  and  com 
ing  of  her  husband  to  and  from  town,  in  superintending 
her  sen-ants,  watching  her  babies  grow,  and  the  flowers  in 
her  conservatory,  during  his  absence,  and  driving  with 
him,  on  his  return,  behind  the  pair  of  high-conditioned 
horses  that  he  always  kept,  softly  swallowing  her  impulse 


£4  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

to  shriek  when  they  went  at  their  most  sp  nning  pace, 
reflecting  that  death  or  mutilation  was  the  worst  that 
could  happen,  —  mere  trifles  to  the  rudeness  of  showing  a 
contrarious  hostility  to  the  pleasures  of  one's  husband. 
In  this  amiable  content  Mrs.  Slabwell  reared  her  four 
children  to  young  manhood  and  young  womanhood ;  and 
the  last  of  these  was  married,  and  settled  in  life,  just 
before  the  niece  Monny,  who  had  been  educated  at  a  New- 
York  boarding-school,  came  home  (the  Slabwells  had  at 
this  date  a  fine  residence  in  the  city  proper)  to  make  her 
debut  as  a  young  lady. 

This  event  caused  an  immediate  enlargement  of  the 
Slabwell  circle.  Certain  especial  circumstances  gave  the 
young  girl  some  favorable  introductions  at  the  outset ; 
and  then  on  such  occasions,  for  instance,  as  the  grand 
charitable  balls  and  bazaars  of  the  city  furnish  for  show 
ing  off  the  fair  of  one  circle  to  the  brave  of  another,  the 
distinctively  fashionable  young  men  walked  promptly  over 
whatever  line  separated  their  set  from  that  of  the  Slab- 
wells,  to  pay  their  court  to  the  charming  young  ward  of 
the  lumber-merchant.  And  when  the  feminine  fashiona 
bles,  those  more  watchful  keepers  of  the  social  gates, 
discovered  that  the  young  stranger  came  of  the  old  Rivers 
family,  they  immediately  recognized  that  there  was  noth 
ing  more  to  be  said.  For  the  old  Rivers  family  (it  had 
softened  into  Unitarianism  in  its  later  generations)  had 
been  among  the  earliest  founders  of  this  representative 
Puritan  city  of  Moralmount :  the  family  had  been  con 
spicuous,  indeed,  in  Puritan  annals,  on  the  old  soil,  as  far 
back  as  the  English  struggle  between  Crown  and  Parlia 
ment.  And  although  Monny 's  own  grandfather  Rivers 
(he  had  died  shortly  after  his  son  Endicott's  marriage) 
bad  been  chiefly  illustrious  for  the  skill  with  which  he  had 
scattered  a  large  inherited  fortune  without  being  at  all 


A  REVEREND  IDOL.  45 

dissipated, — being,  on  the  contrary,  a  most  spotless  and 
high-minded  gentleman, — the  sinning  ability,  as  well  as 
the  virtue,  of  the  early  house  of  Rivers,  was  still  suf 
ficiently  historic  among  the  old  families  of  Moralmount 
for  this  fair  young  orphan  of  the  line  to  be  welcomed 
among  them  with  no  snubbing. 

Mrs.  Slabwell  herself  might  perhaps,  ere  this,  have  so 
far  recalled  the  claims  of  her  maiden  name  as  to  upbear 
her  married  one,  if  she  had  had  less  pride,  and  more 
ambition  ;  if  it  had  not  been  both  beneath  her  dignity,  and 
above  a  certain  little  indolence  which  characterized  her,  to 
push  in  the  least  for  social  honors.  But  when,  without  any 
vulgarity  of  pushing,  Miss  Monny  blossomed  out  into  a 
decided  belle  in  Moralmount  best  society,  —  those  younger 
and  gayer  circles  of  it  into  which  the  girl  naturally  fell,  — 
aunt  Helen  was  quietly  gratified  to  chaperon  her. 

Nevertheless,  to  the  chaperon's  gathering  alarm  at  last, 
the  belle  took  no  marrying  interest  in  any  of  her  numerous 
train  of  would-be  suitors.  No :  she  did  not  even  senti 
mentalize  with  her  adorers.  Whatever  nonsense  her  nim 
ble  fancy  and  merry  tongue  charmed  them  with,  it  was 
not  tender  nonsense.  One  single  experience,  very  early, 
very  rash,  comprised  all  her  sentimental  histories.  The 
girl  was  not  cold-hearted,  but  deep-hearted;  and  "  ce 
besoin  d'affcction  qtii  devore  la  jeunesse  "  had  its  imper 
sonal  stay  in  the  art  which  both  absorbed  and  regulated 
the  intense  susceptibilities  of  a  poetic  nature. 

This  present  summer,  Monny 's  running  away  from 
Newport  (where  aunt  Helen  took  a  cottage  solely  on  her 
account)  to  bury  herself  in  her  favorite  hiding-place  at 
Cape  Cod,  with  her  old  nurse's  relations,  had  been  a  par 
ticularly  severe  trial  to  the  amiable  Mrs.  Slabwell. 

4  i  Her  bloom  will  be  over  very  soon  now  :  she  is  almost 
twenty-One,"  that  lady  had  lamented  to  her  husband. 


46  4   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  Now,  Helen,  the  child  grows  more  and  more  of  a 
rose  every  day  of  her  life." 

"  Still,  that  peculiarly  fair  complexion  is  at  its  best  but 
a  very  little  while,"  said  the  lady,  with  grave  anxiety. 

"Now.  Helen,  do  you  suppose  men  marry  a  skin? 
Keally  we  are  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  —  not  when  we 
see  something  choicer,"  said  the  present  elderly  husband, 
remembering  how  the  ladylike  grace  of  Miss  Helen  Rivers, 
who  had  only  a  pleasing  face,  had  been  more  fascinating 
to  him  than  all  the  pink  cheeks  in  the  world.  "A  girl," 
declared  Mr.  Slabwell,  k'who  is  more  company  than  a 
roomful,  whom  nobody  ever  gets  tired  of,  morning,  noon, 
nor  night,  can  take  her  time  about  marrying,  —  take  her 
time.  There's  plenty  of  men  that'll  want  her  —  a  long 
while  yet.  And  you  know  she  likes  to  go  down  to  that 
lonesome  place  just  because  she  can  paint  pictures  there 
all  day  long.  Let  her  have  her  own  way." 

"  I  wonder  sometimes,"  said  the  wife,  u  if  we  have  ever 
done  right  to  let  her  have  her  own  way  so,  in  painting 
pictures  all  her  life,  and  shutting  them  up  where  nobody 
can  see  them ;  though,  to  be  sure,  I  should  hardly  wish 
her  to  be  known  as  an  artist.  It  is  true,  that  foreigner 
who  gave  her  lessons  at  school  so  long  told  me  that  she 
had  a  very  great  genius  ;  and  it's  perfectly  astonishing, 
of  course,  to  see  the  pictures  she  paints,  especially  since 
her  trip  to  Europe  with  Harry  and  his  wife.  But,"  con 
tinued  aunt  Helen  doubtfully,  tk  the  young  women  whom 
I  see  occasionally  at  watering-places,  sitting  round  on 
camp-stools,  sketching,  seem  to  me  extremely  forward, 
eccentric  young  persons,  fantastically  dressed,  and  apt 
to  fall  into  conversation  with  men  to  whom  they  have 
not  been  formally  introduced ;  intending  no  ill,  doubt 
less,"  said  the  lady,  "  but  really  not  persons  whom  we 
should  wish  to  hear  Monny  mentioned  with  at  all." 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  47 

Thus  spoke  Mrs.  Slabwell,  recalling  some  of  .hose 
crude  dabblers  in  literature  and  art,  which  the  necessities 
of  our  time,  and  its  liberties,  have  made  so  numerous 
among  women  ;  certain  specimens  of  which  flighty  sister 
hood,  ubiquitous  at  summer  hotels,  had  crossed  aunt 
Helen's  path.  "If  only,"  she  resumed,  imagining  with 
a  shudder  a  niece  of  hers  joined  to  those  unconventional 
rovers  with  the  camp-stools,  who  represented  to  her 
woman  as  an  artist,  —  "if  only  Monny  had  taken  more 
to  music,  like  her  mother  !  Her  mother  played  and  sang 
beautifully,  although  she  Imd  only  the  advantages  of  that 
country-town  where  she  belonged."  (Young  Kudicott 
Rivers  had  so  far  followed  his  sister's  example  as  to 
marry  into  a  family  less  ancient  than  his  own.) 

"  She  wrote  verses,  too,  that  Endicott  said  were  beauti 
ful,"  continued  Mrs.  Slabwell,  "although  she  never 
cared  to  print  any  thing.  Nobody  knows,  however, 
what  she  might  have  done,  if  she  had  not  been  so  bound 
up  in  him,  and  broken  her  heart  at  his  death." 

"Wasn't  your  brother  given  to  drawing  too?"  asked 
Mr.  Slabwell,  in  some  endeavor  to  reconcile  his  wife  to 
Monny 's  sad  propensity. 

"Not  faces,"  said  Mrs.  Slabwell;  "only  bridges  and 
such  things.  He  was  so  talented  he  could  have  been 
any  thing.  But  what  he  really  fancied  was  to  be  a  civil 
engineer ;  although,  to  please  father,  he  studied  law, 
you  know.  He  was  a  great  reader,  too,  just  like  Monny. 
But  still  he  liked  to  be  out  of  doors  as  well,  studying  the 
elevations  of  the  land,  and  the  construction  of  things," 
said  Mrs.  Helen,  her  ideas  being  rather  confused  just 
here.  "  It  was  some  curiosity  of  that  sort  which  led  him 
to  go  down  into  that  mine.  He  was  adventurous,  dread 
fully  adventurous,  for  a  young  man  who  was  never  wild 
in  his  habits,"  sighed  the  sister. 


48  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

4 'Well,"  replied  Mr.  Slabwell  profoundly,  "as  a  girl 
wouldn't  be  likely  to  take  to  civil  engineering,  and  plan 
ning  bridges,  and  as  the  mother  wrote  poetry,  the  father's 
talents  might  come  out  in  the  child  in  this  poetical  way 
of  drawing  faces.  At  any  rate,  it's  certain  nobody  ever 
put  such  a  taste  into  the  child's  head :  so  it  must  have 
been  born  there.  And  seeing  it  has  always  given  her 
something  to  take  up  her  mind,  so  that  you  never  hear 
her  asking,  in  the  dullest  of  times,  what  she  shall  do  with 
herself,  let  her  have  her  own  way,"  said  uncle  Slabwell, 
administering  his  invariable  recipe.  u  Let  her  go  down 
to  that  old  place  and  finish  out  her  summer,  if  she  wants 
to.  Good  healthy  air  down  there.  She'll  come  back  in 
the  fall  fresher  than  ever."  So  uncle  John  had  begged 
Monny  off  for  her  visit. 

Mrs.  Slabwell  was  by  no  means  a  match-making  guard 
ian  of  the  unseemly  eager  sort.  She  merely  felt  that  a 
girl  whom  it  had  pleased  Heaven  to  make  a  universal 
attraction  to  mankind  should  improve  her  high  privileges 
of  selecting  a  husband  while  they  were  at  their  best. 
There  were  no  jealousies  in  the  Slabwell  family ;  and  it 
had  not  at  all  disturbed  aunt  Helen  that  her  niece  should 
have  a  social  success  which  her  own  daughters  had  never 
had.  Her  own  children,  the  loyal  wife  never  forgot, 
were  as  near  to  their  father  as  to  herself :  so  she  deemed 
it  fortunate  that  the  marriages  which  their  personal  choice 
had  made,  among  the  newer  gentry  of  the  city  and 
suburbs,  had  not  been  such  as  to  remove  them  to  any 
chilling  height  above  the  paternal  ways.  But  there  was 
still  a  lingering  sentiment  in  the  calmly  contented  breast 
of  Mrs.  Helen  Rivers  Slabwell  which  would  be  gratilied 
to  see  some  member  of  the  present  generation  of  uer 
family  married  into  that  circle  of  more  traditions  where 
the  Rivers  family  had  an  original  right  to  stand. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  49 

Also  it  would  be  highly  convenient  if  Monny  should 
marry  wealth  as  well  as  station  ;  so  that  the  girl's  own 
fortune,  which  was  very  moderate,  need  not  be  too  largely 
increased  by  dowry  gifts  from  her  uncle,  thought  Mrs. 
Sl:tl>well,  not  loving  her  niece  less,  but  her  own  babes 
more.  These  babes  had  grown  up,  very  pleasant  but 
expensive  creatures,  likely  to  find  ultimate  use  in  their 
new  households,  reflected  the  maternal  mind,  for  all  that 
Mr.  Slabwell  would  have  to  bequeathe.  He  would  pro 
vide,  of  course,  for  orphaned  Monny,  as  for  his  own 
child,  if  need  were.  But  why  should  need  be?  thought 
aunt  Helen,  when  her  niece  was  a  girl  whom  men  sought, 
utterly  regardless  of  the  question  whether  she  owned  a 
pin. 

Yet  here  was  this  belle,  with  such  brilliant  opportuni 
ties,  encouraging  none  of  her  suitors,  and  taking  the  most 
unpractical  flights  into  the  desert,  as  if  maidens  were 
young  forever. 

Aunt  Helen   could  but   sigh  a  little,  in   spite   of   her 
natural  serenity  of  temper  and  the  marital  efforts  at  con 
solution. 


50  A  KEVEKEND   IDOL 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  minister  was  soon  deeply  at  work  in  the  seclusion 
of  his  Cape-Cod  lodgings.  Contrary  to  his  usual 
practice  when  sojourning  in  such  by-places,  he  declined 
to  deliver  any  sermons  at  present.  It  was  a  very  peculiar 
period  with  him  ;  and  he  chose  to  be  a  private  hearer,  for 
a  while,  in  the  little  Orthodox  Church  of  the  region, 
which  duly  invited  the  famous  Episcopalian  to  its  pulpit. 

So  Monny  did  not  hear  the  preacher,  and  she  had 
judged  the  man.  As  for  whatever  great  things  she  heard 
of  him  in  the  former  capacity,  they  were,  like  his  fine  and 
superior  presence,  absolutely  nothing  to  this  young  seeker 
after  the  sincerities,  since  she  believed  that  his  character 
did  not  correspond.  She  remained  in  a  very  poor  opinion 
of  that  character.  To  begin  with,  it  decidedly  cheapened 
any  man  in  mademoiselle's  eyes  to  have  the  reputation  of 
being  pursued  by  ladies :  he  was  the  occasion  of  this 
unbeautiful  reverse  of  "  the  proper  order."  Altogether, 
she  avoided  his  presence  to  the  utmost  degree  possible  in 
the  case  of  two  beings  boarding  in  a  simple  house  like 
Mrs.  Doane's.  She  esteemed  it  to  be  only  in  her  bargain 
that  she  should  do  this,  and  it  certainly  was  in  hei 
inclination. 

So,  being  conveniently  fond  of  bread  and  milk  and 
fiuits.  —  edibles  that  required  no  hot  serving,  — she  con 
tinued  to  take  breakfast  and  tea  everywhere  but  with  the 

Mtister  :  even  at  dinner  she  contrived  in  many  ways  not 
v^  sit  the  meal  out  with  him.  And  on  all  other  occa- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  51 

sions,  although  her  behavior  had  no  overt  incivility,  her 
genuine  indifference  to  the  man's  existence  made  her  pass 
him  by  as  if  he  were  a  post. 

A  man  who  is  regarded  as  a  post  by  a  young  woman 
has  this  advantage,  that  he  can  study  the  genus  fcntina 
in  such  a  specimen  with  a  calm  security,  not  alwayu 
vouchsafed  a  man  in  these  delicate  studies,  of  having 
nothing  to  pay  for  his  lessons. 

It  certainly  behooved  a  reverend  idol  to  come  to  what 
coherent  knowledge  he  could  of  that  mysterious  sex  with 
which  he  inevitably  had  so  much  to  do ;  and  a  pair  of 
young  feminine  eyes  in  which  he  was  so  shorn  of  his 
beams  that  plainly  a  more  rayless  object  in  the  shape  of 
man  had  never  crossed  their  vision, — this  was  certainly 
the  providential  pair  of  eyes  into  which  he  should  look  to 
post  himself  up  in  the  abstract  science  of  womankind. 
Doubtless  some  such  conviction  of  valuable  opportunity 
not  to  be  lost  moved  Mrs.  Doane's  clerical  boarder  in 
those  moments  of  relaxation  when  he  emerged  from  his 
studies,  to  turn,  as  he  began  to,  an  occasional  glance, 
which  had  a  certain  light  of  curiosity  in  it,  upon  the 
elusive  young  lady  boarder,  if  by  any  chance  she  paused 
a  moment  in  his  atmosphere. 

Such  a  chance  occurred,  for  instance,  one  warm  after 
noon,  as  the  minister  was  inhaling  what  breeze  there  was 
upon  a  shed-like  piazza  built  out  on  one  side  of  the  Doane 
house,  and  styled  by  the  family,  the  "porch."  The 
porcn  was  curtained  with  a  variety  of  twining  annuals 
climbing  vigorously  to  the  roof  on  strings,  and  was  alto 
gether  a  cosey  bower  to  read  an  English  review  in,  of  a 
drowsy  hour,  as  Mr.  Leigh  was  doing,  when  Miss  Rivera 
came  slowly  up  from  some  point  without  the  house.  In 
her  hand  was  a  small  paper  parcel  which  had  just  come 
to  her  from  Boston  by  the  railroad  express-wagon  as  she 


52  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

was  walking  in  the  yard  ;  and,  sitting  absently  down  now 
on  the  edge  of  the  porch,  she  opened  the  little  package 
on  the  spot.  It  contained  a  long  mane  of  nearly  black- 
brown  hair,  being  that  appendage  to  the  feminine  toilet 
known  as  —  a  switch;  and  the  girl,  having  compared  it 
approvingly  with  what  seemed  a  sample  lock  of  hair 
enclosed,  lifted  up  her  fair  arms,  and  coiled  the  thing 
twice  about  her  head,  as  if  to  test  its  length. 

The  minister  regarded  this  frank  operation  over  the  top 
of  his  magazine  with  a  puzzled  smile,  and  then  remarked 
aloud,  as  the  first  intimation  to  the  absorbed  maiden 
of  his  presence,  "I  should  say  it  was  not  the  proper 
color." 

u  Indeed  it's  a  perfect  match,"  answered  Monny 
roundly,  facing  about  to  behold  this  ministerial  spy  and 
critic  making  unasked  observations  from  the  other  end 
of  the  porch.  "It  is  for  Clara  Macey,  who  plays  the 
organ  in  the  village  church  here,  and  whose  head  ought 
to  be  brought  oat,"  added  Miss  Rivers,  turning  back  to 
her  switch,  which  she  had  begun  to  comb  out  with  her 
fingers,  braid  up,  and  test  the  capacities  of  generally. 

"And  the  rest  of  her  left  in?"  asked  the  gentleman, 
mystified  at  this  peculiar  accenting  of  words. 

"Certainly  —  subordinated,"  replied  the  young  lady 
gravely.  "Her  head  is  her  point ;  and  it  is  all  lost  go 
with  her  hair,"  she  lamented,  more  to  herself  than  to 
the  reverend  inquirer. 

If,  by  the  way,  the  sober-minded  are  distressed  to  find 
a  clergyman  indulging  in  this  trivial  talk,  they  must  re 
member  that  he  could  only  investigate  the  laws  of  this 
young  lady's  being  by  taking  her  on  her  own  plane. 
Moreovei,  as  Tertullian's  liberty  of  discourse  on  the 
feminine  toilet  is  somewhat  curtailed  to  the  modern 
clergyman,  so  that  really  he  cannot  quite  inform  his  lady- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  53 

hearers  from  the  pulpit  that  they  "have  learned  their 
artilices  from  the  demon,"  it  may  be  that  this  New-York 
minister,  who  certainly  had  a  world  of  beswitched  heads 
to  preach  to,  had  a  distinct  professional  anxiety  to  ascer 
tain  just  how  Satanic  these  arts  were.  At  a!1  events,  he 
still  plied  his  interrogatories. 

"What!  she  has  lost  all  her  own  hair,  and  her  head 
too?" 

"  Lost  her  own  hair !  "  repeated  Monny,  still  busy  with 
her  disentangling.  "She  has  plenty  of  hair;  too  much, 
in  fact,  and  very  nice.  Her  hair  is  pretty,  but  she  isn't 
pretty  in  her  hair." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Leigh,  filling  out  for  the  pres 
ent  with  that  monosyllable  the  complete  blank  which  this 
last  deliverance  left  in  his  understanding. 

But,  after  taking  breath  a  little,  he  returned  to  the 
charge,  obliged  to  address,  however,  the  young  lady's 
profile,  and  mostly  the  back  of  her  head ;  Miss  Rivera 
being  much  too  deeply  absorbed  with  her  switch  to  take 
any  notice  of  the  bass  voice  talking  away  at  the  other  end 
of  the  stoop,  save  to  throw  it  answers,  when  she  must,  in 
the  most  absent  manner. 

"A  young  person,"  persisted,  under  this  snubbing, 
the  inquiring  mind  which  had  forgotten  the  state  of 
Turkey,  and  whatsoever  else  was  discussed  in  the  English 
review,  —  "a  young  person  who  suffers  under  the  dis 
advantage  of  too  much  hair,  and  that  misfortune  is  to  be 
remedied  by  piling  on  more  hair  ' ' 

"  Too  much  hair  for  the  way  she  wears  it,  all  hanging 
loose,  a  style  not  becoming  to  her,"  said  Monny,  with  an 
effort  to  see  if  a  thoroughly  categorical  account  would 
appease  this  tiresome  questioner.  "  So  nobody  knows 
that  she  has  any  beauty  at  all,  and  she  does  not  know  it 
herself.  But  the  shape  of  her  head  is  perfectly  beautiful. 


54  A   EEVEEEND    IDOL. 

which  is  a  very  rare  beauty  indeed  ,  and  its  poise  on  ner 
throat;  and  she  has  the  loveliest  little  ears,"  pursued  the 
artist,  forgetting  in  her  own  enthusiasm  the  inappreciative 
audience.  "  And  when  her  hair  is  all  done  up  in  simple, 
severe  coils,  that  I  am  going  to  make  her  a  little  present 
of  this  switch  to  wind  solid  on,  then,"  pronounced  Miss 
Rivers  gravely,  "although  people  may  never  call  her 
exactly  handsome,  she  will  yet  be  admired  for  a  refined, 
distinguished  air,  and  it  will  be  a  great  help  to  her  without 
and  within." 

"  Within  !  "  repeated  the  minister,  surveying  yet  more 
curiously,  as  this  exposition  went  on,  the  pretty  curled 
creature  who  made  herself  a  missionary  of  false  hair  to 
others,  since  she  was  denied  the  bliss  of  wearing  any 
herself.  "It  is  of  the  nature  of  amoral  support,  then, 
to  a  young  woman  to  know  that  she  has  —  what  is  it? 
—  ears  of  a  superior  style,  and  a  head  remarkably  joined 
on?" 

"Certainly,"  returned  Miss  Monny,  not  desiring  any 
conversation  at  all  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Leigh ;  but,  if  he 
would  persist  in  talking,  she  was  not  to  be  put  down  by 
his  flippancies,  —  "certainly  it  is  a  moral  support  to  a 
young  woman,  and  every  human  creature,  to  be  conscious 
of  some  good  points.  That  may  be  a  reason,"  suddenly 
added  mademoiselle,  as  a  new  illustrative  idea  here  popped 
into  her  head,  "  why  boys  in  their  early  growiug-up  are 
generally  so  much  more  awkward  and  distressed  in  com 
pany  than  girls  are.  Girls  at  that  age  are  praised  just 
for  their  looks.  But  boys'  looks  are  at  their  worst  when 
they  are  growing  up  (and  nobody  cares  for  boys'  looks 
anyway) ,  and  they  have  no  gowns  to  show  them  off,  and 
they  have  not  yet  come  to  their  brains,  and  so  they  are 
abashed  and  ill  at  ease  till  they  are  old  enough  to  develop 
values  after  their  kind,  and  then  they  come  out  comforta- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  55 

ble  and  self-possessed,  and  enjoy  society  themselves,  and 
make  it  enjoyable  for  other  people;  which  shows,"  con 
cluded  the  young  logician,  "  that  men,  as  well  as  women, 
in  order  to  do  their  best,  have  a  necessity  to  be  what  you 
may  caii  admired,  if  anybody  insists  on  that  word,  and 
chooses  to  give  it  a  silly  meaning,"  said  the  maiden  with 
a  slight  toss  of  her  curls.  "I  mean  the  men  who  are 
not  vain,"  added  this  paradoxical  young  person.  "Of 
course  perfectly  conceited  people  (such  as  the  Rev.  Kenyon 
Leigh,  was  the  speaker's  secret  thought)  do  not  need  to 
be  sustained  by  any  approval  but  their  own.  But  the 
truly  fine  souls,  —  yes,"  repeated  Miss  Monuy  with  a 
deeply  reflective  air,  "I  should  suppose  the  very  finest 
souls  among  men  might  often  suffer  most  from  bashful- 
ness  in  their  early  youth  ;  because,  of  course,  they  would 
be  more  sensitive  than  other  men,  more  alive  to  the  ideal, 
and  so  more  aware  of  their  own  crudities." 

Now,  as  it  happened,  the  very  gentleman  present  could 
have  taken  out  a  first-class  brevet  as  "  a  fine  soul,"  ac 
cording  to  this  theory ;  since,  however  little  it  might 
appear  at  this  period  of  his  life,  Kenyon  Leigh  had  been, 
in  spite  of  the  high  social  advantages  in  which  he  had 
been  reared,  a  quite  morbidly  bashful  youth.  So  this 
young  damsel's  speeches  had  some  curious  touches  of 
reminiscence  for  him,  which  made  him  rather  wish  to  hear 
her  go  on  a  while  longer  ;  and  he  was  a  little  disappointed, 
when,  bringing  that  important  cue  to  an  end  with  these 
last  words,  she  arose,  and  whisked  into  the  house. 

A  day  or  two  later  it  chanced  that  Mr.  Leigh  was 
again  sitting  on  the  stoop  a  little  while  after  dinner,  open 
ing  his  mail,  when  he  heard  Monny's  clear  voice  calling 
within  the  house  to  Susannah,  — 

"  There's  Clara  Macey  coming  along  the  road.  Please 
ask  her  to  come  in.  I  want  to  see  her  a  moment." 


56  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

It  was  one  of  those  days,  peihaps,  when  there  was 
nothing  in  the  papers ;  for  this  name  pierced  to  the  min 
ister's  consciousness,  through  the  newspaper  paragraphs 
he  was  reading,  as  that  of  the  young  woman  whose  head 
was  to  be  brought  out.  And,  as  Miss  Macey  presently 
came  up  the  yard,  he  lifted  his  eyes,  and  discreetly, 
through  the  vines,  took  a  critical  look  at  the  maiden '& 
possibilities  of  beauty,  and  really  beheld  none. 

A  slight  girl,  whose  pale,  small-featured  face  looked 
thin  and  insignificant,  lost  as  it  was  in  a  mass  of  uncon- 
fined  dark  hair,  which,  slightly  crimped,  hung  from  the 
head  in  what  a  man  would  probably  call  the  mop  style 
of  coiffure.  This  young  person,  disappearing  within  the 
house,  re-appeared,  after  the  lapse  of  some  twenty  min 
utes,  accompanied  by  Miss  Rivers ;  the  young  villager 
holding  her  wide  hat  in  her  hand,  conscious,  perhaps,  of 
a  new  grace  to  display,  as  indeed  she  had.  Miss  Rivers 
had  dressed  her  hair ;  and,  behold,  her  head,  which  was 
small,  was  really  of  the  perfect  classic  mould,  and,  with 
her  hair  deftly  coiled  in  a  manner  to  bring  out  its  beauti 
ful  arches,  she  was  quite  another  being.  The  low  brow 
and  finely-pencilled  eyebrows  had  a  decided  beauty ;  the 
pale  complexion,  which  was  yet  pure,  harmonized  well 
with  the  type  of  face,  which,  now  that  the  bushy  hair  was 
so  arranged  as  to  be  a  grace  instead  of  a  drawback,  had 
verily  that  delicate,  distinguished  air  which  the  gospeller 
of  vanity  beside  her  had  averred  to  be  its  quality.  Really, 
as  the  two  maidens  moved  about  among  the  flower-beds, 
Monny  cutting  a  bouquet  for  the  caller,  it  struck  the 
observing  minister  as  rather  a  pretty  deed,  for  a  foolish 
one,  that  the  girl  on  whom  Nature  had  lavished  so  much 
should  take  such  pains  to  bring  out  the  quieter  charm  of 
her  less  fortunate  sister.  So,  when  the  latter  had  de- 
Darted,  what  did  the  clergyman  do  but  make  a  remark  to 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  57 

Miss  Rivers  as  she  came  up  the  walk,  congratulating  her 
on  her  success. 

The  young  lady,  lifting  her  eyes  to  behold  Mr.  Leigh 
again  behind  the  curtaining  vines,  minding  things  so  far 
from  his  proper  business,  replied  gravely,  "Yes:  I  have 
studied  the  modes  of  hair." 

"  Has  it  not  cost  much  time  to  gain  such  a  high  mastery 
of  modes?"  asked  the  minister,  his  eye  unconsciously 
straying  over  Miss  Monny's  toilet,  a  simple  white  one ; 
but  the  man  recognized  in  it,  as  a  man  might,  some  mys 
terious  felicity  of  arrangement. 

"  Time?  "  repeated  Monny  :  "  that  is  according  to  how 
much  force  you  put  into  the  time.  For  myself,  I  put  my 
soul  to  the  fashions."  With  which  calm  declaration  in 
the  face  of  a  clergyman,  the  butterfly  vanished. 

"  What  have  you  been  saying  to  the  minister?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Doane  within  the  house. 

41  H — m!  He  volunteered  some  weary  old  suggestion 
about  the  time  women  waste  on  dress.  And  I  told  him 
that  the  way  not  to  waste  time  on  dress  was  to  give  your 
whole  mind  and  strength  to  it  for  just  a  day  or  two, 
spring  and  fall,  when  the  new  fashions  come,  and  then 
shake  your  soul  clear  of  the  whole  subject  till  the  next 
season,"  said  Monny,  whose  habit  of  bestowing  on  the 
clergyman  only  the  briefest  verbal  droppings  from  her 
inward  processes  of  mind  made  hei  words  often  convey 
to  his  brain  any  thing  but  her  real  meaning. 

"By  the  way,  aunt  Persy,"  continued  the  girl,  "it 
really  seems  to  me  that  women  themselves  —  those  who 
write  on  dress-reform,  I  mean  —  help  to  belittle  their  sex, 
although,  of  course,  they  don't  intend  it,  by  their  ever 
lasting  harangues  on  dress.  It  does  give  such  an  imbe 
cile  impression  of  women  to  hear,  that,  after  so  many 
thousand  years,  they  haven't  got  the  first  rag  of  their 


58  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

garments  right  yet.  My  women's-rights  books  up  stairs 
are  full  of  assertions  that  the  present  style  of  feminine 
dress  absolutely  necessitates  endless  worry  and  waste  of 
time  and  every  thing.  Now,  any  observer  knows  that 
the  world  of  difference  there  is  in  different  women  in  their 
faculty  of  dressing  well  on  small  means  is  not  nearly  so 
much  in  the  quantity  of  time  they  spend  as  in  their  quali  .y 
of  sense  about  clothes  ;  that  is,  taste  in  choosing  what  A 
pretty,  and  prudence  in  buying  what  will  wear  well.'* 

"  I  think  you're  quite  right,  my  dear,"  said  the  old 
lady.  "I  find  myself  that  these  women's-rights  talkers 
stretch  things  terribly.  But  then  it's  always  more  striking 
to  propose  some  entirely  new  order  of  things  than  to  con 
sider  whether  the  fault  with  the  old  order  isn't  merely  an 
abuse  of  it  by  a  foolish  class  who  would  abuse  anything." 

"Of  course,"  rejoined  Monny.  And,  the  outer  air 
being  now  cleared  of  the  minister  (he  was  just  heard 
going  up  the  front  stairs) ,  the  girl  sauntered  back  into  it 
again,  by  a  side  door,  to  regain,  in  a  few  moments'  soli 
tary  stroll  under  the  open  sky,  her  mood  of  work,  after 
the  little  interruption  of  her  hair-dressing  benevolence. 
There  was  an  apple-orchard  which  came  well  up  in  range 
of  the  house  on  one  side,  the  low  Cape-Cod  trees  branch 
ing  too  near  the  ground  for  even  Monny  to  walk  upright 
under  them ;  but  the  straight  outer  line  of  the  orchard 
was  a  favorite  little  promenade  with  her  when  the  bosky 
tops  of  the  trees  just  shadowed  her  head  with  the  wester 
ing  sun.  As  she  paced  there  now,  her  fair  musing  face 
a  little  bent,  the  minister,  seating  himself  at  his  study - 
table  up-stairs,  glanced  down,  all  unobserved,  through 
the  white  fringes  of  his  festooned  cotton  window-curtains, 
and  smiled  to  himself,  thinking  how  much  like  a  serious 
being  that  young  girl  looked,  if  one  did  not  know  that 
she  was  merely  putting  her  soul  to  the  fashions. 


A  RI:VI:UI:ND  IDOL.  59 

Probably,  indeed,  the  universal  attention  which  this 
girl's  face  was  wont  to  draw  among  far  more  perfect  ones 
was  because  even  the  casual  eye  was  surprised  by  it 
somewhat  in  the  same  way  as  was  the  minister ;  that  is, 
the  life  of  thought  in  Mouny  rayed  out  through  a  style  of 
face  not  currently  supposed  to  belong  to  the  thoughtful 
woman.  So  the  quality  of  expression  which  would  have 
made  a  plain  woman  called  intellectual  looking  was  chiefly 
recognized  in  this  pretty  creature  as  giving  some  peculiar 
light  to  her  beauty.  Strangers  would  turn  in  a  crowd 
for  a  second  glance  at  this  vivid  young  face,  to  find,  on 
such  glance,  that  it  was  not  so  perfectly  handsome  as  it 
had  seemed,  but  was  even  more  striking. 

The  minister  certainly  did  not  ascribe  unusual  mental 
activity  to  his  fellow-boarder;  for  she  seemed  the  very 
idlest  of  all  young  human  flowers,  folding  her  fair  leaves 
for  a  while  in  this  Cape-Cod  retirement,  he  concluded,  in 
order  to  re-open  more  freshly  for  the  season  of  city  gaye- 
ties.  Her  convoy  of  elegant  youth  had  disappeared  ;  and 
she  had,  as  sole  company,  the  oddest  variety  of  local 
visitors,  whom  she  would  entertain  in  her  rooms  through 
all  the  long  morning  hours,  —  half-grown  girls  from  the 
village,  with  some  points  of  picturesque  beauty  in  their 
faces ;  little  boys  rather  extravagantly  ragged  and  bare 
legged  for  this  tidy  region ;  and,  above  all,  one  strange, 
gaunt  old  fisherman  and  his  old  wife,  living  several  miles 
awiiy  in  a  wild  solitude  of  the  seashore  on  the  back  side 
of  the  Cape.  This  aged  son  of  the  sea  was  known  bj 
the  sole  name  of  Isry-Chris,  which  was  short  for  hu 
full  baptismal  name  of  Israel  Christopher.  Whatovei 
the  family  name  was  to  which  this  superior  appellation, 
recalling  at  once  the  head  of  the  chosen  race  and  of 
navigators,  had  been  prefixed,  it  was  entirely  obsolete 
by  some  exaggeration  of  a  custom,  peculiar  to  the  re- 


60  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

moter  regions  of  the  Cape,  of  calling  all  individuate 
blessed  with  a  double  baptismal  by  that  as  by  their  full 
name.  As  for  the  old  wife,  she  had  lost  her  name,  Lap- 
tismals  and  all ;  but  she  had  a  special  piece  of  her  hus 
band's  name  assigned  to  her  whenever  it  was  necessary 
to  speak  of  the  pair  separately ;  thus  she  was  invariably 
Aunt  Isry,  and  he  Uncle  Chris. 

The  Isry-Chrisses  —  this  was  the  name  always  used  to 
denote  the  family  as  a  unit  —  carried  on  quite  a  commerce 
with  Mrs.  Doane,  especially  during  the  time  of  her  sum 
mer  boarders,  as  .Uncle  Chris  raised  certain  delicate 
varieties  of  fish  out  of  the  waters  on  the  back  side  of 
the  Cape,  while  Aunt  Isry  raised  particularly  fat  chickens 
on  the  land  ;  likewise  they  peddled  all  manner  of  berries 
in  their  season.  But,  whatever  relations  of  trade  they 
had  with  Mrs.  Doane,  they  had  apparently  intimate  rela 
tions  of  friendship  with  her  young  lady  boarder,  who  not 
only  had  them  up  in  her  rooms  by  the  hour,  but  once  or 
twice  the  kind  of  wagon-cart  in  which  the  Isry-Chrisses 
made  their  journeys  had  arrived,  beautifully  swept  and 
garnished,  with  an  extra  seat  inserted,  upon  which  Miss 
Rivers  rode  away  in  state  to  make  a  visit  of  days  at 
the  fisherman's  cottage  across  the  Cape.  The  minister 
rather  missed  her  in  these  absences  ;  for  the  girl  had 
some  effect  of  a  sunbeam  on  his  present  grave  mood,  — 
itn  idle,  tricksy  flash,  that  he  turned  to  catch  sometimes 
in  a  passing  humor  of  the  moment,  to  see  how  insub 
stantial  the  airy  brightness  was.  So  he  found  it  cheery 
one  day,  after  such  an  absence  of  Miss  Monny,  to  hear, 
as  he  camo  in  from  his  afternoon  rambles,  her  young 
voice  again  in  the  family  sitting-room  as  she  was  dancing 
about  there  with  her  blithe  queries  after  the  household. 

"Where's  Popo?"  he  heard  her  ask ;  and,  supposing 
this  to  be  one  of  her  innumerable  appellations  for  Duke 


A   EEVEKEND   IDOL.  61 

George,  he  pushed  the  unlatched  door,  made  his  proper 
greetings  to  the  newly-returned,  and  kindly  informed  her 
in  what  direction  he  had  last  seen  the  quadruped. 

Mouny  bowed  silently,  with  some  kind  of  suppression 
in  her  face,  which  was  presently  interpreted  to  Mr.  Leigh 
by  overhearing  her,  before  he  reached  his  study,  run  after 
Mrs.  Doane,  crying  in  the  resonant  sotto  voce  of  a  child 
bursting  with  restrained  laughter,  "Did  you  hear  the 
minister  tell  me  where  Popo  was  ?  '  Is  thy  servant  a 
dog  ?  '  I  meant  Popo  for  himself,  —  short  for  Popocata- 
petl,  highest  peak  of  the  Rockys  !  "  And  the  all-adored 
preacher  of  St.  Ancient's,  reduced  to  having  his  health 
inquired  after  by  a  young  lady  as  the  Rev.  Popocatapetl's, 
attained  his  apartments. 

Nevertheless,  whatever  whim  it  was  which  made  the 
busy  minister  wont  to  break  out  of  his  pre-occupations 
with  some  word  to  stay  this  ever-flitting  girl  when  he 
could  catch  her,  seized  him  just  as  often  after  he  knew 
that  she  called  him  names  as  before.  There  were  curious 
touches  of  mystery  about  her.  For  instance,  on  those 
long  solitary  rambles  which  she  took  daily,  she  was  sure 
to  have  on  her  arm  an  angular,  frame-like  thing,  loosely 
wrapped  in  a  shawl  (it  was  her  sketching-apparatus, 
which,  since  Mr.  Leigh's  advent,  Monny  kept  thus  con 
cealed)  . 

44  What  is  that  square  bundle  that  you  carry  about  so 
much?  "  he  asked  her  bluntly  one  morning  in  the  porch, 
as  sne  came  in  glowing  from  her  early  walk,  just  as  he 
was  going  out. 

"It's  a  mirror,"  shortly  answered  Monny,  entering 
the  house. 

"What  do  you  say  such  things  to  the  minister  for?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Doane  within  doors,  as  Mr.  Leigh  wexit 
beyond  hearing. 


62  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

"To  strike  him  dumb,"  laughed  Monny,  remembering 
the  amaze  on  Mr.  Leigh's  face ;  for  he  gave  this  young 
lady  such  credit  for  candor,  he  had  accepted  her  state 
ment  as  the  literal  truth. 

"  You  should  have  seen  his  eyes,"  the  girl  went  on, 
half  laughing,  and  half  indignant.  "  It  was  a  little  more 
than  he  expected,  and  he  expects  a  good  deal  in  the  way 
of  idiocy  in  women.  Oh,  yes  !  he  does.  I  know  him. 
And  you  needn't  always  stand  up  for  him  so,  aunt 
Persy,"  said  the  maid,  shaking  her  head  at  the  matron 
with  affectionate  sauciness. 

"It  is  a  mirror, — mirror  of  nature,"  repeated  Mon 
ny,  sitting  down,  and  making  good  her  asseveration  to 
Mr.  Leigh  by  writing  the  above  title  in  her  sketchbook 
on  the  spot,  affixing  the  date  of  month  and  year  with  a 
great  flourish. 

"Does  he  deserve  the  truth,"  demanded  Miss  Monny, 
shutting  her  book  thus  christened,  with  a  bang,  "when 
he  actually  swallowed  what  I  told  him  as  a  fact?  A  man 
capable  of  believing  that  a  girl  tugs  a  looking-glass  two 
feet  square  all  over  these  sands  !  —  and  he  preaches  to 
women,  great,  crammed  churchfuls  of  them,  (more  fools 
they!)  and  tells  them  they  have  immortal  souls,  of 
course ;  and  all  the  while,  clown  at  the  bottom,  he  has 
such  an  opinion  of  them  as  that.  If  a  girl  must  admire 
her  own  face  out  on  a  morning  walk,  as  if  she  couldn't 
find  a  pool,  like  Narcissus  !  " 

"  Narcissus?  "  queried  Mrs.  Doane  rather  blankly. 

"The  vainest  man  that  ever  lived  —  except  a  spoilt 
minister,"  explained  the  damsel. 

"  Now,  Miss  Monny,  when  there  could  never  be  a 
gentleman  of  more  simple,  unpretending  ways  than  Mr. 
Leigh." 

"H — m!"  rejoined  Miss  Rivers.     "I  never  said  he 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  63 

strutted  visibly,  —  that  he  had  any  cheap,  parading  ways 
of  vanity.  The  man  has  a  good  outward  style,  of  course, 
just  by  being  brought  up  in  good  society ;  but  down  in  his 
soul  he's  a  lordly,  woman-despising,  domineering  "  — 

Any  further  expense  of  adjectives  on  Mr.  Leigh's 
account  was  here  cut  short  by  Monuy's  running  to  the 
front  door,  which  opened  at  the  moment  to  admit  her 
model  for  the  day.  It  was  her  habit  to  spend  the  morn 
ing  hours  in  painting  from  the  life ;  her  models,  of  course, 
being  that  queer  train  of  visitors  which  the  minister  had 
remarked.  But  the  afternoon  hours,  when  she  painted 
without  her  models,  she  spent  in  her  closest  and  most 
exhausting  work ;  and,  from  the  silence  which  prevailed 
in  her  apartments,  the  minister  concluded  that  she  de 
voted  this  part  of  the  day  to  solid  sleep.  Yes  :  he  would 
see  her  come  down  and  walk  under  the  lee  of  the  orchard 
at  its  close,  with  eyes  in  which  dreams  seemed  still  lin 
gering.  Sometimes,  however,  she  looked  strangely  weary 
(the  lonely  artist  had  many  misgivings  this  summer, 
although  she  toiled  more  consecutive  hours  at  her  easel 
than  she  had  ever  done  before)  ;  there  was  a  languor  in 
her  girlish  step,  something  like  dejection  in  all  her  young 
movements,  which  made  her  silent  observer  from  the 
upper  windows  wonder  if  some  mysterious  malady  was 
preying  on  this  radiant  girl ;  and  he  began  to  soften  his 
substantial  tread  when  he  passed  her  door  in  those  silent 
afternoon  hours,  lest  the  frail  sleeper  should  be  awakened. 

Monny's  being  one  of  those  high  nervous  organizations 
to  which  a  wink  of  sleep  by  daylight  is  a  constitutional 
impossibility,  she  considered  the  minister's  view  of  her 
capacity  as  a  sleeper  (revealed  to  her  by  Susannah,  who 
had  observed  the  bated  step  with  which  the  considerate 
Hercules  stole  through  the  upper  entry  of  afternoons)  to 
be  only  one  more  proof  of  his  contemptuous  estimate  of 


64  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

young  ladies  ;  and  she  kept  stiller  than  ever  in  her  apart 
ments  to  confirm  him  in  his  precious  idea  of  the  way  in 
which  she  passed  her  time. 

It  was  perhaps  in  this  idea  of  Monny's  fragility,  that 
one  moonlight  night  Mr.  Leigh  woke  out  of  the  re  very 
in  which  he  was  pacing  up  and  down  before  the  house 
to  observe  that  the  young  lady  was  sitting  bareheaded  on 
a  wayside  rock  at  a  little  distance  in  the  quiet  road.  She 
so  grew  on  his  mind  at  every  turn  in  his  walk,  that  finally 
he  went  into  the  house  and  rummaged  in  the  entry  to  find 
some  shawl  belonging  to  her,  but  could  lay  hands  on 
nothing  but  a  broad-leafed  straw  hat,  armed  with  which 
wrap  he  presented  himself  to  the  maiden. 

4'  Miss  Rivers,  you  should  not  be  sitting  so  long  out  in 
the  night  air  without  any  protection,"  he  said. 

The  young  lady  slowly  turned  her  head,  and  surveyed 
the  intrusive  gallant  with  so  distant  a  gaze  he  might  as 
well  have  proposed  to  put  a  jacket  on  the  moon  which 
she  had  been  contemplating.  Dropping,  at  last,  her 
gradual  eyes  to  the  object  in  his  hand,  with  a  look 
which  expressed  both  her  sense  of  the  man's  audacity 
in  meddling  with  the  articles  of  her  wardrobe,  and  of  the 
absurdity  of  his  selection  therefrom,  she  said,  "  Thank 
you,  I  am  not  particularly  subject  to  colds  in  the  head  — 
myself."  The  minister  had  at  this  moment  some  remains 
of  such  a  cold  which  he  had  taken  a  few  days  previous. 

"  The  night  air  seems  to  be  very  full  of  other  people," 
she  added  dryly ;  for  not  only  the  minister  was  abroad 
without  a  vestige  of  a  hat  on  his  own  head,  —  the  day  had 
been  intensely  hot,  —  but  Mrs.  Doane  was  visible  by  the 
moonlight  taking  the  air  among  her  flower-beds ;  and 
Susannah,  also,  was  discerned  at  the  moment  spreading 
linen  to  bleach  on  the  grass.  "Every  member  of  the 
household  is  forth,"  said  Miss  Monny. 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  65 

"The  rest  are  stirring  about,"  replied  Mr.  Leigh:" 
"you  alone  are  sitting  here  perfectly  still.  There  is  a 
very  great  difference." 

"  Yes  :  those  who  stir  about  make  a  wind  round  them, 
—  all  the  wind  there  is  to-night :  so  they  are  iu  draughts, 
which  I  am  not.  They  are  in  a  way  to  take  cold,  and 
not  I." 

The  reason-defying  nonsense  which  mademoiselle  thus 
coolly  babbled  did  not  prevent  her  from  looking  extremely 
lovely  as  she  sat  there  in  the  moonlight :  so  the  minister 
was  not  disgusted  enough  to  say  any  thing  more  severe 
than  — 

"Miss  Rivers,  you  must  be  aware  that  what  it  pleases 
you  to  say  is  —  contrary  to  all  experience." 

"  This  will  be  found  contrary  to  all  experience,  yet  it  is 
true,"  quoted  Monny  loftily.  "  I  read  that  in  a  book  as 
having  been  said  by  some  great  man  when  announcing  the 
laws  of  a  new  discovery  he  had  just  made.  It  was  pro 
nounced  a  sublime  saying." 

"  It  was  certainly  a  bold  one,"  answered  Mr.  Leigh. 

"All  great  things  have  the  quality  of  boldness,"  pro 
nounced  Monny  magisterially.  "The  philosopher  knew, 
of  course,  that  the  large  mind  and  the  mean  mind  have 
not  the  same  experiences ;  that  they  are  impressed  by 
precisely  the  same  fact  in  an  entirely  different  way." 

' '  But  since  the  large  mind  and  the  mean  mind  are  alike 
enclosed  in  physical  tissues  on  which  the  fact  of  night 
dews  makes  very  much  the  same  impression,  your  illustra 
tion  is  hardly  in  point." 

"  Many  other  things  are  not  in  point,  — not  in  point  at 
all,"  retorted  Monny,  wishing  to  make  this  intruder  under 
stand  that  his  presence  was  not  in  point,  and  wondering 
how  much  flaring  impertinen.ce  and  absurdity  it  would  take 
to  convince  him  of  it. 


G6  A   EEVEKEND   IDOL. 

Apparently  it  would  take  a  good  deal  while  the  maiden 
sat  there  unshawled.  He  stood  stolidly  immovable,  al 
though  allowing  the  hat,  which  Monny's  eyes  had  scanned 
so  satirically,  to  drop  stealthily  on  the  ground.  The  belle, 
of  course,  made  him  aware,  by  an  infinitesimal  move 
ment  of  her  eyelids,  that  she  saw  this,  and  that  it  was 
still  another  infelicity.  But  just  here,  before  he  had  com 
mitted  any  thing  else,  a  more  fortunate  beau  appeared 
on  the  scene.  This  was  a  fisherman  of  the  region,  who 
came  driving  up  the  moonlit  lane  in  a  wagon,  from  which 
he  jumped  to  announce  to  Miss  Monny  that  there  was 
such  a  rare  fine  sight  off  the  pier  in  the  village,  he  was 
sure  she  would  like  to  see  it,  and  so  druv  up  to  tell  her, 
—  a  big  excursion-party  from  somewhere,  with  music,  and 
lights  dancing  over  the  water,  making  a  perfect  picture 
for  her.  The  young  artist's  pursuits  were  well  known 
through  the  neighborhood,  exciting  much  admiring  awe, 
and  a  zeal  to  provide  her  with  subjects,  which  was  apt 
to  be  more  devoted  than  intelligent. 

Just  now,  however,  Miss  Monuy  welcomed  eagerly  the 
proffered  opportunity  to  see  the  picturesque.  She  replied 
to  the  skipper  that  she  should  be  delighted  to  go  with 
him  as  soon  as  she  could  run  to  the  house  and  get  some 
wraps. 

He  could  take  her  off  in  his  boat  on  the  water :  the  boat 
would  carry  several,  the  sailor  said,  meaning  to  indicate 
that  there  would  be  room  on  the  present  excursion  for  the 
distinguished  gentleman  boarder  who  was  standing  by, 
but  leaving  it  to  the  lady,  of  course,  directly  to  select 
the  company. 

The  lady  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  selecting  the 
Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  to  be  of  the  company :  so,  without 
a  word,  she  started  at  once  for  the  house.  The  skippei 
obediently  followed  her  lead,  stopping  only  to  pick  up  the 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  67 

neglected  hat  which  he  spied  on  the  ground.  This  he 
neatly  dusted,  and,  with  the  native  gallantry  of  the  Jack 
tar,  presented  to  the  young  lady ;  she  putting  on  at  once, 
and  with  the  most  smiling  thanks,  the  head-covering  which 
she  had  so  scornfully  rejected  at  Mr.  Leigh's  hands. 

Then,  leading  his  animal  and  the  attached  wagon  with 
his  off  hand,  the  sailor  walked  beside  Miss  Monny  up  to 
the  house-gate,  paying  all  his  devoirs  to  the  belle  with  a 
manner,  which  in  its  felicitous  mingling  of  respect  as  to 
a  superior,  and  naive  eagerness  to  serve  the  fair  maiden, 
no  art  could  have  improved  on. 

Mrs.  Doane  declined  the  invitation  extended  her  to  be 
of  this  impromptu  party,  but  Susannah  was  eager  to  go ; 
and  the  sailor  soon  drove  away  with  Miss  Monny  and  the 
black  woman. 

The  omitted  gentleman  boarder  had  seen  a  great  many 
of  the  most  brilliant  sights  of  earth  ;  but  he  stood  looking 
after  the  retreating  wagon  with  a  curious,  disappointed 
longing  to  see  whatever  trumpery  spectacle  might  be  off 
the  Lonewater  coast  this  evening.  He  had  a  vision  of  a 
boat  rocking  on  the  moonlit  waves,  and  that  rash  girl 
needing  some  one  to  take  care  that  her  shawl  was  well 
wrapped  about  her. 


68  A  EEVEEEND    IDOL. 


CHAPTER  V. 

U~TN  the  midst  of  this  Pagan  tumultuous  hive  there 
-L  sweetly  and  piously  dreams  a  mystic  of  ancient 
days,  —  Fra  Angelico  da  Fiesole.  .  .  .  He  never  took  up 
his  brushes  without  kneeling  in  prayer,  and  never  painted 
a  Christ  on  the  cross  without  his  eyes  being  filled  with 
tears.  It  was  his  custom  not  to  retouch  or  recast  any 
of  his  pictures,  but  to  let  them  remain  as  they  first  left 
his  hand,  believing  that  they  were  as  they  were  through 
the  will  of  God." 

Over  these  words  Monny  had  paused  one  summer  day 
ere  her  coming  to  the  Cape,  as  she  sat  reading  Taine's 
"  Italy;"  feeling  her  own  self  in  "  a  Pagan  tumultuous 
hive,"  in  the  fashionable  hotel  where  she  was  staying 
with  her  uncle  and  aunt,  keeping,  between  dancing  and 
driving,  some  remnant  of  her  soul  to  art  by  devouring 
in  toto  the  books  of  the  brilliant  French  critic.  Need 
enough  felt  this  lonely,  toiling  girl  to  kneel  in  prayer 
before  ever  taking  up  her  brushes,  and,  in  her  many  mis 
givings  over  her  dreadfully  mixed-up  nature  and  sur 
roundings,  to  lay  hold  of  the  assurance  that  she  was  as 
she  was  by  the  will  of  God.  So  those  far-off  Catholic 
saints  struck  her  as  men  that  she  would  like  to  read  more 
about,  beings  who  spent  their  lives  in  reaching  out  after 
the  unseen,  in  strivings  which  had  no  earthly  reward. 
These,  she  fancied,  must  be  the  lives  to  quicken  hers ; 
and  accordingly,  when  she  came  through  Boston,  en  route 
for  Mrs.  Doane's  retreat,  she  went  into  an  antiquarian 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  69 

bookstore  there,  as  the  supposed  proper  place  for  such 
lore,  and  bought  of  a  boy,  the  chief  antiquary  having 
gone  out  to  his  dinner,  some  Holy  Fathers.  The  boy, 
bein<r  of  a  sufficient  age  to  think  how  pretty  this  pious 
young  customer  was,  ransacked  his  unlearned  best ;  and 
a  precious  collection  the  innocent  pair  got  together. 

Ardent  girls  who  ever  plunged  into  the  writings  of  the 
old  Catholic  celibates,  dreaming  to  find  there  "the  inno 
cence  of  the  calm  spirit  preserved  in  the  cloister,  the 
rapture  of  the  blessed  spirit  that  sees  God,"  have  found, 
for  one  thing,  such  a  portion  meted  out  to  their  sex  as 
would  indeed  prove,  in  the  words  of  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes,  that  "  the  priest  has  had  for  woman  but  a  curse 
and  a  command."  Such  books  had  this  unguided  gill 
gathered,  seeking  the  brethren  of  the  gentle  Fra  Angol- 
ico,  —  books  whose  perusal  would  certainly  have  caused 
her  some  darker  pain  of  bewilderment  over  the  "woman 
question"  than  any  of  the  latter-day  writings  on  that 
subject  which  had  so  perplexed  her.  The  absent-minded 
Monny,  however,  forgot  her  antiquarian  purchase  in  the 
Boston  depot,  and  again  forgot  to  send  back  from  the 
Cape  to  have  it  expressed  to  her,  until  the  package, 
handed  about  from  one  depot  official  to  another,  was  so 
slow  in  being  found,  that  it  did  not  come  through  to  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Doane  until  Mr.  Leigh  had  been  there 
some  weeks. 

There,  as  it  chanced,  it  was  handed  up  by  the  express 
man  over  the  familiar  porch,  one  August  day,  just  as 
Monny  was  going  out  equipped  for  a  walk,  and  Mr. 
Leigh  was  coming  in. 

u  Oh,  my  saints  have  come  at  last,  I  hope  !  "  said  Miss 
Rivers,  beginning  to  pull  at  the  twine  string  of  the 
package,  in  her  eagerness  ;  whereat  Mr.  Leigh,  stopping 
to  produce  his  pocket-knife,  cut  the  same,  and,  the 


70  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

wrapping-paper  being  torn  off,  the  lost  books  were  dis 
closed. 

4  'Do  not  trouble  yourself  to  go  up-stairs  again  for 
those,"  said  the  minister,  as  Monny  was  turning  back  to 
carry  her  books  to  her  room.  "  I  am  going  up-stairs 
directly.  Allow  me  to  take  them,  and  leave  them  at  your 


door. 


This  very  small  attention  Monny  could  but  accept  ;  and, 
saying  a  brief  "  Thank  you  !  "  she  transferred  her  books 
to  Mr.  Leigh,  and  went  on  her  way.  The  minister, 
going  up-stairs  with  the  books  piled  loosely  on  his  arm, 
turned  them  up  for  a  moment,  and  ran  his  eye  carelessly 
over  the  names  on  their  backs,  finding  it  not  at  all  new 
in  his  experience  of  young  ladies,  that  the  very  giddiest 
of  them  should  be  given  to  some  pious  reading  of  the 
tenderly  sentimental  sort. 

It  required  but  a  glance  at  Monny's  ignorantly  chosen 
volumes  for  Mr.  Leigh  to  know  that  the  kind  of  lore 
which  they  contained  was  not  desirable  reading  for  any 
girl  ;  and  the  idea  of  these  pages  falling  under  the  child 
like  eyes  of  this  particular  girl,  so  indefinably  annoyed 
him  as  a  man  and  a  minister,  that,  instead  of  depositing 
the  books  at  their  owner's  door,  he  marched  them  forth 
with  into  his  own  rooms,  and  stowed  them  away  in  com 
plete  hiding  there. 

So  Monny  did  not  find  her  books  ;  but  being  a  forgetful 
maiden,  and  absorbed  at  her  easel,  she  did  not  remember 
to  inquire  for  them  until  the  next  afternoon,  when  she 
went  down  to  the  stoop  at  the  minister's  usual  hour  of 
reading  there,  and  said  to  him,  "If  you  please,  Mr 
Leigh,  I  did  not  find  my  saints  yesterday." 

Mr.  Leigh  looked  up.  His  impulse  to  confiscate  those 
Holy  Fathers  had  not  waited  on  the  question  whether  it 
would  be  easy  to  account  for  the  proceeding  or  not  ;  and 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  71 

he  was  only  more  in  the  same  mind  now,  as  the  girl 
stood  in  the  open  porch,  looking  like  the  creature  of  light, 
which  she  always  did  when  the  full  day  shone  on  her. 
So  he  answered  deliberately,  — 

44  No.     I  carried  them  into  my  own  room." 

Monny  waited  silently  to  be  informed  when  her  prop 
erty  would  be  handed  out  from  that  apartment ;  but  she 
was  only  met  with  the  decree  :  — 

"  Those  books  are  not  the  best  reading  for  you.  Per 
fect  moral  action,"  continued  the  divine,  casting  about 
in  his  mind  for  any  explanation  possible  to  make  to  this 
young  maiden,  and  inspired  to  nothing  more  skilful  than 
to  proceed  thus  sermonically,  —  ''perfect  moral  action 
being  perfect  obedience  to  what  we  know  of  right,  the 
struggles  of  honest  souls  in  any  age  to  attain  that  obedi 
ence,  according  to  their  own  standard,  may  be  a  useful 
study  for  the  disciplined  mind.  But  the  very  young  and 
inexperienced  need  to  seek  their  models  in  lives  not  too 
far  removed  from  the  conditions  of  their  own.  Latin 
monks  and  American  young  ladies  are  very  utterly  re 
moved  beings." 

Mr.  Leigh  being  much  too  delicate  minded  a  man  to 
betray,  even  by  a  conscious  look,  the  particular  line  in 
which  the  Romish  volumes  offended,  Monny  could  imagine 
nothing  in  this  censorship  over  her  reading,  but  a  last 
impertinence  of  the  ''woman-despising"  minister, — an 
insinuation  that  young  ladies  could  not  be  trusted  to 
read  Popish  books,  lest  they  should  become  enamoured  of 
Popish  practices  ;  and  she  burst  out  indignantly,  — 

"I  think  I  should  have  sense  enough  to  know  that 
what  is  to  be  imitated  in  good  men  is  their  spirit,  and  not 
their  literal  doings,  and  that  1  need  not  put  ashes  on  my 
head,  nor  peas  in  my  shoes,  because  the  saints  did  :  and  I 
don't  know  of  anybody  to  study  in  American  conditions 


72  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

but  George  Washington,  and  I've  got  sick  of  him.  Aa 
for  saints,"  added  the  girl,  with  a  sudden  threatening 
Hash  in  her  eye,  demurely  turned  to  the  horizon,  "  there's 
nothing  to  stand  for  them  in  a  Protestant  country  but 
ministers  ;  and  their  personal  goodness,  which  is  the  only 
goodness  I  have  any  respect  for,  is  of  course  dreadfully 
exposed  to  be  all  drained  away  by  their  profession  of 
preaching;  for  some  writer  says,  'Every  time  a  man 
speaks  of  fine  purposes,  especially  if  he  does  it  with  elo 
quence,  the  less  likely  he  is  to  accomplish  them  him 
self.'" 

u  Carlyle,"  said  the  minister,  meekly  furnishing  the 
authority  for  the  quotation  that  smashed  him. 

"Well,  he  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  writers,  and  of 
course  he  had  observed  truly."  And,  tossing  her  nose  in 
the  air,  Miss  Anemone  Rivers,  having  propounded  these 
sayings  by  no  means  with  the  slightest  touch  of  jesting, 
but  as  one  who  launched  incontrovertible  propositions  into 
space,  that  might  hit  where  they  would,  swept  into  the 
house. 

The  minister's  eyes  remained  at  gaze  for  a  long  moment 
on  the  spot  where  his  young  castigator  had  vanished,  some 
singular  light  playing  over  his  face.  One  would  have 
said  that  he  was  hoping  she  would  re-appear  ;  but,  as  there 
was  certainly  no  chance  of  that,  he  rose  at  length,  and 
walked  slowly  up  to  his  study. 

As  for  Monny,  she  went  surging  into  Mrs.  Doane's 
bedroom,  on  the  other  side  of  the  house,  shutting  the 
door  vigorously  behind  her,  and  dropping  on  a  low  stool 
in  the  midst  of  a  heap  of  bright-colored  rags  which  Mrs. 
Doane,  at  work  on  a  fancy  rug,  was  cutting  there  to  avoid 
disturbing  the  shining  order  of  the  sitting-room. 

11  Now  what  do  you  think  that  minister  has  done?  "  was 
Monny's  first  word  ;  and  she  floridly  related  the  seizure  of 


A    Jl  EVER  END    IDOL.  73 

her  books.  "  Docs  an  Episcopal  minister  think  himself 
Tope?"  she  cried  at  the  end  of  her  story.  u  lie  isn't 
Tope  of  me !  I  come  of  the  Puritans,  the  English  Puri 
tans,  way  back  on  the  Rivers  side,  I  do,  —  the  regular 
old  rampageous  sort,  that  wouldn't  pay  the  ship-money, 
nor  bow  down  to  the  bishops  ' '  — 

44  Now,  my  dear  child,"  calmly  interposed  the  matron, 
"  tho  minister,  not  imagining  how  much  you  know  about 
boots  yourself,  only  meant  to  advise  you  a  little,  as  a 
y>uug  girl,  about  your  reading.  He  could  never  have 
intended  really  to  keep  your  books,"  said  Mrs.  Doane., 
considering  herself  that  this  would  be  a  rather  high 
handed  proceeding.  "  What  did  you  say  to  him?  " 

44 1  answered  him  back,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  naughty 
shake  of  her  head.  44IIe  is  spoiling  my  manners,  and 
miking  me  impudent  and  horrid.  But  wh}7  can't  he  keep 
to  himself?  That  was  the  bargain,"  cried  injured  Moniiy, 
with  an  allusion  which  the  widow  did  not  understand. 
4k  I  don't  like  him,  but  I'm  willing  to  let  him  civilly  alone. 
Why  can't  he  let  me  alone?  Isn't  he  always  asking  me 
questions?  —  perfectly  needless  ones,  and  uncommonly 
stupid,"  pronounced  the  maid,  with  big  scornful  eyes. 

There  was  no  manner  of  doubt  that  the  remarks  which 
Mrs.  Doane's  clerical  boarder  had  grown  more  and  more 
ad  licted  to  bestowing  on  the  young  lady  boarder  wen* 
perfectly  needless  ;  and,  as  to  their  quality  of  stupidity,  it 
must  be  confessed  that  Mr.  Leigh  had  not  exerted  him 
self  in  the  least  to  shine  in  conversational  biilliancy  to 
this  maiden,  the  sole  end  and  aim  of  all  the  speeches 
which  he  addressed  to  her  being  t<}  draw  out  her  own. 
As  he  was  wont,  however,  to  make  these  tentative  remarks 
to  Mouny  when  no  third  person  was  present,  Mrs.  Doane 
had  not  had  opportunity  to  judge  of  their  superfluous  and 
imbecile  nature.  And,  as  the  reverend  churchman  had 


74  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

grown  this  long  while  into  his  landlady's  most  exalted 
esteem  and  veneration,  she  only  sat  thinking  now  how  she 
should  disabuse  Monny  of  her  false  notions  regarding 
him,  as  the  vexed  girl  went  on,  — 

44  What  does  he  mean?  I  suppose  a  popular  ministei 
gets  to  be  a  kind  of  holy  Turk.  He  is  so  used  to  having 
the  whole  female  household  of  faith  bow  down  to  him, 
that,  even  although  he  despises  women,  he  thinks  he 
owns  them,  and  expects  them  to  consult  him  as  their  lord 
and  master.  Think  of  a  man,"  cried  Monny,  reviewing 
her  wrongs,  "  who  first  puts  the  imposition  on  a  peaceable 
girl  of  objecting  to  board  in  the  house  where  she  is.,  for 
fear  she  will  trouble  him  with  attentions,  and  next  puts 
on  her  the  imposition  of  troubling  her  himself  with  curious, 
meddlesome,  gratuitous  "  — 

44  Now,  now,  my  dear,"  interposed  again  the  remon 
strant  widow,  "  whatever  made  the  minister  think  of  going 
away  from  here  for  the  first  day  or  two,  it's  certain  that 
he  has  staid  ever  since  as  satisfied  and  pleased  as  can  be 
with  the  house,  and"  —  Mrs.  Doane  was  going  to  say, 
"with  you."  But  she  checked  herself,  and  merely  re 
sumed,  "it's  very  certain,  Miss  Monny,  that  Mr.  Leigh 
never  could  have  meant-  any  thing  so  rude  as  to  keep 
your  books.  You  say  they  are  Roman-Catholic  books  ; 
and,  so  many  girls  think  there's  something  romantic  about 
being  a  nun,  he  was  going  to  warn  you  a  little  against 
those  superstitions,  since,  according  to  your  own  account, 
the  amount  of  what  he  said  was  that  those  kind  of  writ 
ings  were  safer  for  older  people  to  read  than  for  the 
young.  Of  course,  as  I've  said,  he  doesn't  guess  how 
wise  you  are  in  books  yourself,  and  too  steadfast  in 
common  sense  to  be  blown  round  in  any  such  way.  But, 
my  clear,  he  wouldn't  have  made  such  a  mistake,  if  you 
ever  showed  him  your  serious  side." 


A   REVEUEND    IDOL.  75 

41 1  don't  want  to  show  him  any  sides,"  pouted  disdain 
fill  Monny. 

".But  at  least,"  persisted  the  matron,  "  as  the  fair- 
minded  girl  I've  always  known  you  to  be  before,  you 
would  wish  to  see  his  true  side ;  and  that's  what  I  think 
you  don't  at  all  do  justice  to." 

"  Yes,  I  do,  plenty  of  justice,"  declared  Monny,  who 
had  her  own  private  memory  of  that  conference  by  the 
seashore  in  which  she  had  set  the  minister's  duty  in  order 
before  him  as  to  his  landlady  :  so  all  the  spontaneity  was 
gone,  to  her  eyes,  from  his  subsequent  virtuous  behavior 
in  tluit  line. 

"  His  true  side  is  shown,"  she  burst  out  afresh,  "by 
his  engaging  a  boarding-place,  and  making  all  the  trouble 
of  getting  ready  for  him,  and  then  preparing  to  leave  it 
for  no  cause  at  all.  That's  what  he  calls  perfect  moral 
actions!  "  cried  this  practical  young  hearer,  to  whom  the 
fine  discourse  on  the  stoop  had  gone  for  mere  sounding 
brass.  "  He'd  better  go  home  to  his  big  church  in  New 
York,  and  hire  him  a  seat  in  the  pews,  and  get  himself 
soundly  preached  to  one  solid  year.  Only  preaching 
wouldn't  do  him  any  good  ;  he  knows  the  trick  of  it  too 
well :  it  would  be  like  two  Roman  augurs  winking  at  each 
other  on  the  sly,  while  they  humbugged  the  people  with 
their  signs  and  wonders." 

Who  the  Roman  augurs  were  good  Mistress  Doane  did 
not  know  ;  but  what  she  did  know  was  that  the  clergy 
were  being  spoken  of,  and  by  her  well-beloved  young 
lady,  in  a  style  which  seemed  bordering  on  the  sacrilegious, 
and  she  broke  in  with  a  more  gravely  admonitory  tone  than 
she  had  used  before,  — 

"Miss  Monny,  Miss  Monny,  you  was  speaking  a  few 
moments  ago  of  those  righteous  old  forefathers  of  yours 
way  back  in  England  ;  and  I  used  to  think  that  something 


76  A   REVEREND   IDOI. 

of  those  far-off  ancestors  had  come  down  to  you  to  make 
you  strong  in  the  days  of  your  youth,  to  I  e  so  in  the  gaY 
world,  and  yet  not  of  it,  in  your  way  of  being  so  earnest 
to  know  and  see  into  the  rights  of  things.  But,  certain, 
you  are  getting  out  of  that  way  about  this  minister,  ray 
dear.  Mr.  Leigh  is  something  more  than  just  a  famous 
preacher  for  show:  for  all  our  people  whom  he  meets 
here  round  in  his  walks  take  to  him  wonderful,  down  to 
the  little  children  ;  and,  as  there's  no  more  chance  of  ever 
setting  up  an  Episcopal  church  here  than  there  is  of  a 
Mohammedan  mosque,  he  can't  have  any  proselyting 
views.  Indeed,  he  looked  into  our  own  Orthodox  Sunday- 
school  library  soon  after  he  came  here,  to  see  what  books 
were  in  it ;  and  he's  made  them  a  present  of  a  great  box 
of  new  ones,  as  the  superintendent  told  me  came  a  day 
or  two  ago  on  the  cars ;  so  that,  with  my  two  boarders, 
this  parish  will  be  quite  set  up  for  a  library,"  said  the 
widow  with  pride.  For  Monny,  to  whose  young  life 
books  had  been  so  much,  often  made  her  little  presents 
of  a  few  volumes  at  a  time  to  this  only  public  library 
which  Lonewater  possessed.  Monny's  gifts  were  not  of 
the  tract  order  of  literature.  8 he  was  not  very  strong  in 
the  line  of  tracts  :  but  with  her  own  discursive  reading  she 
had  managed  to  make  a  pretty  shrewd  choice  of  books 
that  could  be  squeezed  into  a  Sunday-school  library,  and 
yet  were  not  the  pseudo-pious  trash  usually  considered 
the  proper  thing  for  such  collections  ;  and  the  liberal- 
minded  clergyman,  in  his  examination  of  the  store  in  the 
little  Orthodox  vestry,  had  paused  over  more  than  one 
well-thumbed  volume  of  Monny's  bestowing,  a  little  won 
dering  what  enlightened  sense  had  put  it  on  those  shelves. 

"I  have  never  told  you  before,"  the  widow  continued, 
"  about  Mr.  Leigh's  good  deeds  in  this  village,  seeing 
plainly  that  he  wouldn't  like  to  have  them  paraded 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  77 

But  I  know  he  has  had  poor  widow  Cottrell's  house 
shingled  for  her,  and  bought  her  biggest  boy,  that's  just 
getting  old  enough  to  go  on  the  maekerel-fishing,  a  now 
dory  for  his  own,  and  helped  Skipper  Saunders,  that's 
had  a  long  sickness,  and  owns  nothing  but  his  schooner, 
to  get  it  new  rigged  and  furnished,  as  'twas  all  out  of 
repair.  It  isn't  his  being  so  generous  with  his  money  in 
all  this  that  I  look  at ;  for  being  born  of  wealthy  parents, 
as  I  hear  he  is  on  both  sides,  and  already  come  into  a 
large  fortune  on  his  mother's  side,  by  reason  of  her 
death,  I  dare  say,  with  all  this  riches,  and  being  open- 
handed  by  nature,  it's  nothing  at  all  to  him  to  give  money. 
But  his  looking  so  considerate  into  the  wants  of  people 
he'll  never  see  again  after  a  few  weeks,  and  having  the 
gift  to  help  them  that  have  never  been  used  to  take  regular 
charity,  without  hurting  their  feelings,  —  that  shows  what 
a  very  rare  spirit  is  in  him  ;  and  it  is  the  more  beautiful  to 
see  in  a  gentleman  that's  been  brought  up  in  a  way  never 
to  know  any  thing  about  privations  himself." 

Monny,  being  sufficiently  a  Unitarian  to  have  a  great 
respect  for  good  works,  had  become  an  attentive  listener 
to  Mrs.  Doane :  so  the  latter  went  on,  while  still  braiding 
her  rags :  — 

"  I  remember  saying  to  you,  my  dear,  when  Mr.  Leigh 
first  came  here,  that  I  thought  women  ran  into  foolishness 
sometimes,  in  their  over-devotion  to  ministers.  But  I 
should  be  very  sorry  if  by  any  careless  speaking,  and  to 
a  girl  so  young  as  yourself,  I  should  have  seemed  to  slur 
over  the  fact  that  women  have  very  particular  cause  to 
honor  ministers  as  the  men  whose  set  calling  it  is  to  bring 
the  reign  of  virtue  on  the  earth.  For  the  reign- of  evil  on 
the  earth  will  always  bear  hardest  on  women  and  the  little 
children,  and  all  the  interests  that  are  naturally  most  dear 
and  close  to  us.  So,  the  profession  of  ministers  being 


78  A   EEVEEEND   IDOL. 

what  it  is,  there's  been  many  a  just  reason,  first  and  last, 
why  women  should  stand  by  them.  Not  that  I  would 
say,"  continued  the  matron,  as  her  young  hearer  still  sat 
silent,  —  "not  that  I  would  say  ministers,  or  even  their 
ways  of  thinking,  are  the  only  standard  of  goodness.  I 
know  my  own  husband,  who  was  as  honest  a  man  as  ever 
sailed  the  seas, — what  with  roaming  so  over  the  world, 
and  seeing  so  many  men  and  nations,  —  I  know  he  came 
to  take  a  very  different  view  of  many  of  the  provisions 
of  the  gospel  from  what  I  did ;  but,  though  'twas  natural 
to  me  to  cleave  to  the  old  way  of  believing,  I  could  see 
that  be  was  sincere  and  God-fearing  in  his  way  too.  And 
so  I  reckon  the  apostle's  saying,  '  How  knowest  thou,  O 
wife,  but  thou  shalt  save  thy  husband?'  may  not  mean 
that  she  shall  keep  worrying  him  all  the  time  to  believe 
just  as  she  does,  when  maybe  it  isn't  in  the  nature  of  his 
mind  to  do  so,  especially  in  these  days,  when  the  founda 
tions  of  every  thing  seem  to  be  so  questioned  into  and 
shaken  up. 

"  But  there  is  one  truth  that  will  never  be  shaken, 
Miss  Monny ;  and  that  is,  there's  an  everlasting  differ 
ence  between  a  bad  life  and  a  good  one.  And  if  women 
couldn't  rely  on  the  virtue  of  men,  as  well  as  on  their 
strength  and  wisdom  ;  if  we  couldn't  feel  sure  that  a  cer 
tain  proportion  of  them  can  be  counted  on  to  stand  for 
the  right  in  managing  all  the  world's  large  affairs,  —  we 
women  could  never  feel  at  peace  going  about  our  more 
private  affairs,  knowing  well  that  we  should  suffer  sooner 
or  later,  and  most  helplessly,  in  all  our  quiet  places,  for 
whatever  bad  and  false  doings  went  on  abroad.  So,  if 
good  men-  should  be  honored  by  mankind,  they  should 
especially  be  by  womankind,"  solemnty  concluded  the 
widow.  "  And  a  girl  like  you,  my  dear,  who  I  truly 
believe  have  a  reverent  mind  for  whatever  is  good  and 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  79 

high, — I  could  wish  you  would  consider  a  little  if  you 
haven't  taken  an  unfair  prejudice  against  Mr.  Leigh 
because  he  is  an  Episcopal  minister." 

u  Oh  !  I  don't  object  to  the  Episcopal :  indeed,  I  like  the 
Episcopal  Church  best  of  any  church  in  the  world,  and 
I  almost  always  went  to  it  when  I  was  away  at  school. 
Although  at  first,"  added  the  girl,  wishing  to  be  strictly 
accurate  in  reporting  her  sentiments,  —  "at  first  the  order 
for  morning  prayer  seemed  to  me  so  long  and  circum 
stantial,  the  end  of  Socrates'  little  prayer  used  to  come 
into  my  head,  —  4  Do  we  need  any  thing  else,  Phaedrus? 
for  myself,  I  have  prayed  enough.' ' 

The  Orthodox  dame  was  not  sure  whether  a  little  admo 
nition  was  not  needed  here  again  ;  but  remembering  that 
Mouny's  vivacity  of  impressions  was  quite  removed  from 
levity  of  character,  and  feeling,  moreover,  almost  equally 
in  the  dark  as  to  Episcopalian  prayers  and  those  of  Soc 
rates,  she  said  nothing.  And  the  maiden  added  seriously, 
"  But  the  whole  I^piscopal  service,  besides  being  truly  like 
a  religious  worship,  in  having  all  the  people  join  in  it,  is 
so  reverential  and  beautiful  throughout,  it  would  seem  a 
pity  to  cut  any  of  it  out  for  good  ;  only  I  should  suppose 
they  might  print  the  prayer-book,  '  Then  may  be  read  the 
first,  second  lesson,'  etc.,  instead  of  shall  be;  so  that, 
when  the  preacher  had  a  particularly  good  sermon,  he 
could  omit  some  of  the  service  to  give  himself  more 
time  —  Oh,  how  black  the  clouds  are  growing!"  Monuy 
broke  off,  probably  realizing  that  her  suggestions  for  the 
improvement  of  the  prayer-book  had  not  much  chance 
of  electing  the  next  church  council. 

"  Yes,  the  wind  has  been  rising  steady  ever  since  noon. 
1  shouldn't  wonder  if  there  was  a  great  blow  before  mid 
night."  said  the  Cape-Cod  woman. 

"  The  rain  will  not  come  at  present.     I  believe  I  want 


80  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

to  run  down  to  the  beach,  and  see  the  surf,"  said  Monny, 
rising ;  for  on  this  Atlantic  side  of  the  Cape  a  very  mod 
erate  wind  rolled  great  waves  on  the  shore. 

"Take  a  warm  shawl  with  you,  dear,  it  will  be  chilly 
on  the  beach,  and  come  back  and  take  tea  nicely  now 
with  Mr.  Leigh,  and  you'll  see  he  hadn't  the  least  idea 
of  keeping  your  books,"  coaxed  the  matron,  who,  through 
the  humble  but  tender  relation  which  her  cousin  had 
held  t  >  this  fair  girl's  childhood,  had  come  to  regard  her 
as  a  kind  of  foster-child  to  herself,  —  a  brilliant  young 
creature  whom  she  both  looked  up  to  and  advised. 

Monny,  who  was  very  easy  to  be  entreated  of  affection, 
and  who  had  been  sufficiently  impressed  by  what  Mrs. 
Doane  had  said  of  Mr.  Leigh  a  little  to  reconsider  that 
obnoxious  man,  went  towards  her  room  half  sorry  for 
her  ''answering  back." 

Yes,  turning  at  the  top  of  the  staircase,  she  took  a 
sudden  resolve  to  make  so  much  of  an  apology  to  Mr. 
Leigh  as  to  go  forthwith,  and  ask  him  with  exceeding 
polite  amiability  for  her  books. 

So  presently  there  was  a  low  knock  at  the  minister's 
study-door  by  a  hand  that  had  never  knocked  there  be 
fore.  •  Mr.  Leigh  opened  it,  to  behold  —  Miss  Monny,  — 
meekness  round  her  red  lips,  but  a  glint  of  the  rampa 
geous  Puritan  ancestry  in  her  eye,  as  she  said  in  a  voice 
very  low  and  sweet  and  obstinate,  an  accent  inimitably 
mixed  of  penitence  and  persistence,  "  I'll  take  my  saints, 
if  you  please." 

The  man  mentally  thrust  ' '  my  saints ' '  deeper  down 
into  their  hiding-place,  took  a  renewed  grip  of  the,  Holy 
Fathers,  as  the  maiden  turned  slowly  up  to  him  her  large 
open  gaze.  Under  the  influence  of  Mrs.  Doane's  words 
she  was  looking  at  him  for  the  first  time,  as  it  were  — 
this  clerical  lady-killer,  who  considered  himself  mortal  at 


A  REVEKEND  IDOL.  81 

sight.  She  was  wondering  if  that  conception  of  hers  had 
really  done  him  injustice  ;  and,  lost  in  this  inquiry,  she 
did  not  at  once  take  in  the  words  of  his  reply :  — 

"Iveally,  Miss  Rivers,  I  have  put  the  books  quite 
away.  I  can  make  a  much  better  selection  for  you  of 
the  Catholic  writers,  if  you  wish  to  read  them  ;  and  I 
shall  be  very  happy  to  do  so  the  next  time  I  go  up  to 
Boston.  Meanwhile,  if  you  are  in  want  of  reading,  any 
thing  among  such  few  books  as  I  have  here  is  at  your 
service.  You  are  very  welcome  to  come  in  whenever  you 
like,  and  take  any  of  my  books  or  papers  that  may  please 
you." 

By  this  time  Mr.  Leigh's  words  had  sensibly  penetrated 
to  Monny's  understanding,  and  what  with  their  cool 
assumption  of  authority  over  her,  and  yet  some  indefina 
ble  impression  that  came  to  her  with  that  long,  searching 
look  into  the  face  of  the  speaker,  that  contradicted  the 
character  she  had  always  ascribed  to  him,  and  which  his 
present  extraordinary  proceeding  certainly  seemed  to 
justify,  —  what  with  all  these  conflicting  sensations,  she 
stood  quite  speechless ;  then  making  a  slow,  profound 
bow,  still  without  a  S3'llabie,  she  turned  abruptly,  and 
retired  to  collect  her  wits. 

She  retired  down-stairs  to  collect  them  with  Mrs. 
Doane,  not  staying  even  to  prepare  for  her  walk.  Burst 
ing  into  that  bedroom  again,  she  confounded  Mr.  Leigh's 
advocate  there  by  proving  to  her  how  entirely  deliberate 
and  intentional  his  confiscating  proceeding  had  been. 

"He  has  put  my  books  quite  away,  <juite! "  mocked 
Moniiy,  but  in  a  merry  key,  all  her  wrathful  mood  of  a 
few  moments  before  seeming  to  have  melted  away  in  her 
sense  of  the  comicalities  of  the  affair.  tk  He  proposes  to 
make  a  square  bundle  of  my  property,  and  scud  it  back 
to  Boston." 


82  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  Well,  to  be  sure !  "exclaimed  the  astonished  widow. 

"Why,  it  is  a  larceny  within  the  law,''  laughed  the 
girl.  "  I  could  have  a  sheriff  to  search  the  Rev.  Apostoli 
cal  Succession's  premises  for  stolen  goods.  And  he  would 
stand  up  and  look  at  that  officer,"  continued  Monny, 
dimpling  merrily  as  the  imposing  image  of  Mr.  Leigh 
denying  her  her  books  at  his  door  vividly  recurred  to  her, 
—  "he  would  just  stand  up  in  all  his  feet  and  furlongs, 
and  look  down  at  him,  and  say,  still  as  a  lamb  and  stiff- 
willed  as  a  lion,  '  Really,  Mr.  Constable,  I  have  put  the 
goods  quite  away.  I  have  made  a  square  bundle  of  the 
plunder,  which  it  doth  not  please  me  to  untie.'  What  is 
the  man  anyway?"  cried  the  girl,  with  an  emphasis  in 
her  voice  and  a  wondering  speculation  in  her  eyes,  which 
showed  that  the  minister  at  last  really  stirred  her  curi 
osity. 

Mrs.  Doane,  feeling  that  Monny  had  now  some  just 
cause  to  be  vexed  with  Mr.  Leigh,  was  a  little  surprised 
at  the  mood  in  which  she  took  this  last  aggression  of  his  ; 
but  she  said  nothing  as  the  laughing  maid,  with  a  few 
more  jests  in  the  same  vein,  ran  up  stairs  again  to  equip 
for  her  ramble  to  the  beach.  As  the  widow  saw  her  pres 
ently  tripping  away  thither  with  Duke  George,  the  good 
soul  communed  with  herself  a  little  whether  she  had  not 
better  go  and  inform  the  minister  that  Miss  Rivers  was  a 
highly  learned  and  sensible  young  personage,  who  could 
be  perfectly  trusted  to  read  the  most  beguiling  of  Popish 
books.  She  revolved  this  plan  a  few  moments  ;  but  feel 
ing  a  decided  mystification  about  this  particular  affair, 
and  a  general  uncertainty  about  Mr.  Leigh's  whole  state 
of  mind  towards  her  }Toung  lady,  she  wisely  concluded  to 
hold  her.  peace,  and  meddle  not  a  word. 

As  for  Monny,  roaming  off  to  the  beach  to  find  the 
waves  rising  high  under  the  darkening  sky,  the  sea- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  83 

birds  wheeling  and  whirling  already,  as  with  the  passion 
of  the  coming  tdfnpest  throbbing  under  their  wings,  — 
such  a  fascination  and  a  study  was  the  sea  to  the  gill's 
artist  soul  at  a  time  like  this,  on.ly  the  night  and  the  in 
stant  threatening  rain  brought  her  blowing  home,  obliged 
to  race  with  the  wind  at  last ;  for  the  thunder  was  rolling 
in  long  peals,  and  the  big  drops  beginning  to  fall.  IIow- 
e^er,  Duke  George  bounded  on  the  porch,  with  his  young 
mistress  close  behind  him,  just  as  the  floods  descended  ; 
and  the  watching  Mrs.  Doaue  drew  the  girl,  breathless 
but  glowing,  into  the  house. 

44  The  minister  has  just  gone  up-stairs  since  we  saw 
you  coming,"  said  the  matron.  kfclle  couldn't  eat  his 
supper  for  worry iiig  about  you,  and  he  was  just  coming 
out  to  bring  you  home." 

44  Supposing,  of  course,  that  I  was  that  proverbial 
person  that  doesn't  know  enough  to  come  in  when  it 
rains,"  panted  Monny  ;  but  even  this  reply  was  made  not 
quite  in  her  old  tone  of  flouting  Mr.  Leigh.  In  fact, 
some  impression  from  that  long,  serious  look  of  hers  into 
his  face,  so  remained  to  her,  that  as  she  sat  down  to  the 
tea-table,  with  Mrs.  Doane  sitting  down  again  for  com 
pany,  she  made  no  reference  to  the  affair  of  the  books, 
and  chatted  about  every  thing  but  the  minister. 

But  when  she  went  up-stairs  to  her  studio,  where  Mrs. 
Doane  had  kindled  on  the  open  hearth  the  first  fire  of  the 
season  there,  expecting  Monny  to  come  home  drenched, 
as  she  had  done  more  than  once  after  such  rambles,  —  as 
the  maiden  sat  down  with  a  book  before  the  bright  blaze, 
which  the  evening  was  chilly  enough  to  make  very  pleas 
ant,  although  she  had  escaped  a  wetting,  a  smile  floated 
over  her  -peaking  face  as  she  thought  of  the  man  who 
had  sequestrated  the  last  addition  to  her  libr  iry,  —  flashes 
of  merriment  sobering  into  an  expression  of  that  thought- 


84  A   KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

fill,  puzzled  wonder  which  had  come  OT  er  her  regarding 
Mr.  Leigh.  There  was  a  moment  of*tlis  revery,  then, 
opening  her  book,  she  was  lost  in  its  pages  till  bedtime. 
P»ut  again  at  that  hour,  as  she  ended  her  reading,  and  sat 
idly  pulling  down  her  hair  as  she  gazed  into  the  dying 
fire,  in  these  dreamy  moments  the  old  smile  dimp'ed  her 
face  again,  and,  giving  an  interrogatory  poke  :o  the 
paling  embers,  she  murmured  half  aloud,  "What  is  the 
man  anyway  ?  ' ' 

Then  Mrs.  Doane  coming  in,  candle  in  hand,  as  she 
often  came  at  this  hour,  to  take  a  good-night  look  at 
Monny,  diverted  the  girl's  thoughts  to  another  channel. 

"O  aunt  Persy!  isn't  this  going  to  be  a  dreadful 
night  for  the  sailors?  The  waves  were  just  boiling  over 
the  bar  three  hours  ago,  and  what  a  hurricane  the  wind 
blows  now !  " 

u  Yes,  dear,"  said  the  widow,  going  round  to  put  pegs 
in  the  rattling  window-sashes  :  "  it's  a  hard  blow,  besides 
all  the  driving  rain,  and  thunder  and  lightning  coming  by 
spells.  But  a  sailor's  eye  could  have  seen  this  threaten 
ing  all  day,  though  the  sun  has  shone  bright  enough  off 
and  on :  so  any  vessels  dangerously  near  the  shore  have 
had  time  to  run  into  harbor.  Sailors  know  too  well  what 
this  coast  is  in  a  storm  to  risk  driving  on  it :  so  I'm  not 
so  worried  as  in  the  gales  that  come  up  more  sudden. 
Though  none  can  ever  tell  the  chances  of  the  sea,"  sighed 
the  widow  ;  for  Capt.  Azariah's  ship  had  gone  down  of  a 
still  night  in  mid-ocean,  struck  in  the  fog  by  an  iceberg. 

The  girl  to  whom  was  no  memory  of  either  parent's 
living  face,  for  the  deadly  accident  that  had  smitten  her 
young  father  in  a  moment  from  the  earth,  had  always  a 
special  sense  of  nearness  to  these  mariner's  homes,  which 
had  most  of  them  their  tale  to  tell  of  the  men  who  went 
fo~th,  and  came  back  no  more  ;  and  she  reached  her  hand 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  85 

with  a  loving  gesture  to  the  matron,  as  the  latter  came 
and  sat  down  by  her  chair.  Neither  the  widow,  who  luul 
learned  these  long  years  now  to  live  bravely  and  cheerfully 
in  what  was  left  to  her,  nor  the  orphan,  whose  was  that 
pathetic  loss  which  can  never  measure  itself  with  posses 
sion,  save  in  fancy, — neither  the  elder  nor  the  younger 
heart  was  given  to  morbid  repinings  ;  but  still  there  were 
lonely  chords  in  both  which  made  them  sit  and  talk  with 
peculiar  sympathy  on  a  night  like  this.  And  when  the 
girl's  head  was  at  last  laid  on  her  pillow,  the  wild  wind, 
and  the  fancies  which  it  brought,  still  kept  her  waking. 
Monny's  power  of  sleep  indeed,  in  spite  of  youth  and 
health,  was  wont,  from  the  extreme  sensitiveness  of  her 
organization,  to  be  very  easily  lost;  and  now,  as  the 
hours  deepened  to  midnight,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  house 
was  wrapped  in  slumber,  her  senses  grew  only  more  pre- 
ternaturally  active  with  the  fever  of  the  blast.  Then, 
soon  after  the  old  clock  in  the  entry  down-stairs  struck 
twelve,  a  cloud  still  charged  with  electricity  rolled  up  on 
the  wind,  and  a  fresh  thunder-shower,  only  not  so  severe 
as  the  one  at  nightfall,  added  its  tumult  to  the  gale. 
Somewhere  between  the  long  peals,  the  wakeful  girl  sud 
denly  started  up  at  a  new  sound,  which  seemed  scarce  of 
thunder,  or  wind,  or  rain, — a  sound  like  the  faint,  far 
report  of  a  gun.  She  listened  with  throbbing  heart  to 
hear  it  again,  said  to  herself  that  it  was  but  the  thunder, 
and  yet  could  not  forget  its  peculiar  echo. 

The  white  heads  of  the  furious  waves,  as  she  had  seen 
them  on  her  walk,  rushed  on  the  darkness  of  her  chamber 
like  spectres  :  she  could  not  get  over  that  haunting  terror 
of  a  ship  in  distress,  and  at  last,  rising  up,  she  thrust  her 
feet  into  slippers,  and,  in  a  dressing-gown  and  shawl, 
softly  o^ned  her  door,  resolved  at  least  to  go  down  and 
speak  to  Mrs.  Doane.  A  mysterious  gust  of  wind  Irom 


86  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

some  quarter  drawing  the  door  violently  from  her  hand, 
and  sending  it  to  again  with  a  resounding  bang,  Susan 
nah,  who  slept  in  a  back-chamber  on  this  floor,  woke  up  at 
that  noise  within  the  house,  more  potent  to  disturb  her 
than  any  amount  of  thunder  without ;  and  so,  by  the  time 
Monny  was  telling  her  fear  in  Mrs.  Doane's  bedroom 
below,  the  black  handmaid  appeared  on  the  scene  to 
know  what  was  the  matter. 

Mrs.  Doane,  who  was  assuring  Monny  that  she  had 
heard  only  the  thunder,  and  endeavoring  to  persuade  her 
to  share  her  room  for  the  rest  of  the  night,  briefly  ex 
plained  to  Susannah,  and  sent  her  back  to  bed  again, 
adding,  "And  look  to  the  garret-door,  Susannah.  The 
catch  is  loose  ;  and  it  must  have  blown  open  to  make  the 
draught  that  slammed  Miss  Monny 's  door,  and  it  will  be 
swinging  all  night,  and  keep  the  minister  awake  maybe." 
So  Susannah  went  up  to  fasten  the  garret-door.  But 
meanwhile,  with  the  various  commotion,  Mr.  Leigh  was 
well  awake,  and  called  from  his  room  to  Susannah,  as  she 
tinkered  at  the  garret-door,  to  know  if  any  one  was  ill. 

"  No,  your  Honor,  nobody  sick  ;  only  Miss  Monny  she 
git  nervous,  and  tink  she  hear  a  gun  from  de  sea, — de 
voice  of  a  ship  cast  away,  an'  cryin'  for  help." 

Yet  a  moment  more,  and  the  minister  too  sprang  up, 
and  struck  a  light  in  a  breath ;  for  faint,  and  broken  by 
the  wind,  but  clearly  to  be  distinguished  from  the  artillery 
of  the  skies,  came  again  the  dread  sound  that  had  started 
Monny  from  her  bed,  —  indeed  a  gun  from  that  midnight 
raging  sea,  the  voice  of  a  ship  cast  away,  and  crying  fot 
help. 


A  KEVEREND   IDOL.  87 


CHAFIER  VI. 

MR.  LEIGH  was  out  of  the  house  in  a  very  few 
moments,  snatching,  as  he  went,  the  only  rope 
Mi's.  Doane  had  at  hand  to  give  him  ;  and  the  three  women 
proceeded  to  dress  more  thoroughly.  When  Monny  came 
down,  however,  fully  equipped  in  her  waterproof  cloak 
for  going  forth,  Mrs.  Doane  cried  out  in  remonstrance. 

u  Why,  of  course  I'm  going,  aunt  Persy!"  said  the 
girl,  pulling  the  hood  of  her  cloak  up  over  her  head. 
"  You  know  there's  but  very  few  men  at  home  in  the 
village  at  this  time,  and  perhaps  even  women  can  help  a 
little." 

"Dear  child,  if  there  were  men  enough  to  line  the 
shore,  there's  little  the  strongest  of  'em  could  do  to  help, 
if  the  vessel  is  where  she  seemed  to  be  from  her  guns,  — 
not  very  far  up  above  us.  Right  off  our  beach  here,  it's 
almost  impossible,  you  know,  to  launch  a  boat,  even  in 
fair  weather,  because  of  the  breakers  curving  over  so, 
and  filling  a  boat  with  water,  or  turning  it  bottom  upwards, 
before  ever  it  can  be  got  off ;  and  in  a  gale  like  this  the 
best  lifeboat  that  ever  was  manned  would  be  of  no  more 
account  than  an  egg-shell.  No  :  if  there's  a  vessel  on  the 
bar,  and  she  can't  hold  out  till  morning,  till  they  can  get 
off  to  her  with  boats  from  farther  up  the  shore,  there's  no 
hope  for  them  on  board  of  her,  except  as  some  poor  soul 
may  be  washed  ashore,  and  pulled  in  over  the  undertow 
by  flinging  him  a  rope.  There's  always  possible  some 
chance  like  that,"  said  the  widow,  who  all  this  time  had 


88  A  EEVEEEND  IDOL. 

been  swiftly  filling  a  basket  with  bottles  and  small  pack 
ages.  "  So  I'm  going  down  with  this  basket  to  that  little 
house  of  Billy  Hines,  that's  so  near,  the  beach,  you  know. 
They  are  poor  folks,  and  won't  have  things  to  do  with, 
and  there  may  be  want  of  stimulants  ;  and  Susannah  will 
stay  with  you." 

44  O  aunt  Persy,  Susannah  wants  to  go  too!"  cried 
Monny,  as  she  saw  the  excited  eyes  of  the  black  woman. 
44  We  all  want  to  go,  and  help  carry  the  basket. 

44  There's  some  one  at  the  door  now!  "  exclaimed  the 
girl,  and  ran  to  open  it.  There  she  found  Dick  Hines,  a 
stout  lad  of  sixteen,  whom  Mr.  Leigh  had  met  on  the 
way  with  tidings  of  the  disaster,  and  had  sent  on  to 
Mrs.  Doane  for  a  coil  of  cable-rope  that  was  in  the  old 
sea-captain's  attic.  The  boy,  who  was  breathless  with 
running  through  the  night  storm,  panted  out  what  he  knew 
to  Monny,  while  Mrs.  Doane  and  Susannah  brought  down 
the  knotted  pile  of  rope  from  the  garret ;  and  as  the  girl 
knelt  on  the  floor,  and  helped  disentangle  the  stout  cable 
with  her  deft  fingers,  the  matron  finally  allowed  Susannah 
to  put  on  her  things,  and  the  three  women  were  to  go. 
Monny,  however,  could  not  wait  for  the  lantern  of  the 
other  two ;  and,  calling  Duke  George,  she  ran  away  on 
her  young  feet  through  the  wild  night,  with  the  messenger 
and  the  ropes,  the  thunder  rolling  distantly  now,  but  its 
accompanying  flashes  of  lightning  still  showed  at  intervals 
the  road. 

Far  down  the  lane  a  man  with  a  bright  lantern  came 
running  diagonally  across  the  sand-hills,  and  joined  them, 
lifting  his  light,  js  Duke  George's  well-known  bass  growled 
inquiry  into  the  character  of  the  new-comer,  to  disclose  the 
face  of  Skipper  Brickctt,  an  old  sailor  whom  Monny  knew, 

44  Lord  bless  you!  be  it  you,  Miss  Rivers?"  he  ex 
claimed,  with  that  beaming  loyalty  with  which  men  of 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  89 

whatsoever  degree  were  wont  to  salute  fair  Monny. 
u  You'm  going  to  see  the  wreck?  Well  now,  if  you'll 
do  me  the  honor  to  go  right  along  with  me.  I've  got  a 
good  ship's-light  here ; "  and  Monny  was  glad  to  eling 
tightly  to  the  stout  sailor's  arm,  as  they  came  out  now 
on  the  sea-banks,  where  her  very  senses  whirled  with 
the  violence  of  the  gale  and  the  deafeping  thunder  of  the 
breakers.  They  kept  their  way  on  the  bank :  as  for  the 
beach  below,  on  which  Monny  often  rambled,  even  at 
high  tide,  it  was  wholly  swallowed  now  by  the  great 
waves ;  and,  drawn  blindly  on  by  her  escort,  she  scarcely 
raised  her  head,  bowed  before  the  driving  rain  and  the 
buffeting  wind,  blowing  straight  on  shore,  till,  coming 
over  an  unusual  elevation  of  the  undulating  bank,  she 
was  aware  of  other  lanterns  gathering,  and  dark  moving 
forms  of  men  ;  and  the  skipper  suddenly  held  her  tighter, 
with,  "  Stand  fast  now,  my  young  lady,  and  look  off. 
There  she  is  !  " 

Mouny  looked  off  through  the  bewilderment  of  storm 
and  darkness,  and  that  awful  roar  of  the  breakers,  to  see 
what  seemed  a  single,  dimly  lurid  light,  wildly  plunging 
and  tossing  in  a  world  of  inky  blackness,  haunted  only  by 
an  endless  glimmer  of  white  wraiths  rushing  tumultuous  — 
it  was  the  last  light  of  the  doomed  ship.  The  vessel  had 
been  driven  sheer  over  the  outer  bars  of  the  coast,  to 
strike  on  the  inner  one,  where,  aground,  with  the  waves 
beating  it  to  pieces,  it  had  fired  the  signals  of  distress 
that  Monny  had  heard  on  her  pillow.  But,  wrenched  off 
now  by  the  great  rollers  of  water,  it  was  driven,  utterly 
helpless,  at  their  will,  until,  even  as  those  on  the  shore 
gazed,  a  mountainous  wave  first  lifted  the  wreck  on  its 
crest,  then  dashed  it  on  the  bar  again  to  its  last  destruc 
tion.  Monny  heard  Capt.  Brickett  say,  "Ther^  she 
strikes  !  "  while  as  yet  her  eyes,  spell-bound  on  the  phan- 


90  A   EEVEREND   IDOL. 

torn  light,  had  scarce  discerned  any  outline  of  the  dark 
mass  moving  with  it,  until  suddenly  a  long  bright  glare  of 
lightning  made  clearer  than  day  the  whole  awful  scene,  — 

The  disabled  hulk  of  a  brig,  with  a  chaos  of  broken 
masts  and  tangled  rigging ;  a  dozen  men  or  more ;  one 
woman,  with  a  child  clasped  to  her  breast,  outlined  against 
her  dark  figure  as  she  stood :  the  men  had  dropped  their 
axes,  or  whatever  they  had  been  striving  to  cut  away  all 
that  dragging  ruin  with,  and  float  the  broken  shell  of 
their  vessel  a  few  moments  longer :  their  attitude  showed 
that  they  knew  the  end  had  come ;  and  the  lightning 
flashed  out,  as  if  to  make  a  spectacle  of  them  a  moment 
ere  their  death. 

Monny  turned  sick  with  horror.  The  distance  between 
these  hapless  victims  and  the  land  was  so  short,  yet  the 
thundering  surges  that  filled  it  were  such  as  to  beat  the 
life  out  of  any  swimmer's  breast.  Even  Monny  had  been 
enough  by  these  waters  to  know  that ;  and  the  brief,  deep 
intonation  with  which  the  old  sailor  by  her  side,  recogniz 
ing  the  dismantled  wreck  in  that  great  glare  of  light  said, 
"  It's  '  The  Rattler  '  !  "  had  in  it  no  touch  of  hope. 

u  You'd  best  come  away  from  this,  my  young  lady,*' 
he  said,  trying  to  lead  off  the  shuddering  girl ;  but  at  that 
moment  Monny  was  aware  of  Mr.  Leigh,  who  towered 
head  and  shoulders  above  all  the  other  men,  —  of  this 
strong  figure  moving  alert,  intense.  She  paused  to  see 
what  his  action  meant,  so  unlike  the  blank  despair  of  the 
rest,  as  he  dashed  up  to  an  old  flagstaff  that  was  on  the 
edge  of  the  high  sea-bank  where  all  the  group  were  stand 
ing,  having  caught  up  Skipper  Brickett's  lantern,  the 
most  powerful  light  which  had  been  brought  to  the  shore. 
The  minister  snatched  this  lantern  from  the  ground  with 
the  intent  to  run  it  up  the  high  pole.  Skipper  Biickett 
with  the  rest  of  the  little  group  stepped  mechanically  for- 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  91 

ward  to  aid ;  and  the  flagstaff  having  an  arrangement  of 
sliding  cords,  as  it  was  still  used  for  some  local  signalling 
concerning  the  arrival  of  packets,  the  larlern  was  readily 
swung  up  by  the  Cape-Cod  men  to  such  height  as  would 
throw  its  beams  farthest  over  the  water.  Evidently, 
however,  this  operation  was  wholly  at  the  will  of  Mr. 
Leigh  :  plainly  no  other  man  saw  any  real  purpose  in  cast- 
Ing  this  faint  ray  over  that  hopeless  abyss. 

lie  nevertheless,  stretching  far  over  the  sea-bank,  seemed 
to  study  every  foot  of  the  waters  by  its  light,  and  by  those 
intermittent  flashes  from  the  thunder-cloud,  which  still, 
by  seconds,  made  their  ghastly  revealing  of  the  sinking 
wreck.  Every  thing  passed  in  seconds.  Monny  saw  the 
coil  of  rope  that  had  come  from  Mrs.  Doane's  flash  all 
its  length  through  Mr.  Leigh's  testing  hand,  as  the  men 
helped  him  piece  it  out  with  other  ropes.  She  could  hear 
no  syllable  for  the  thunder  of  the  surge ;  but  apparently 
he  put  to  them  some  rapid  questions  concerning  the  mad 
currents  that  he  leaned  over  and  watched  so  intently.  But 
when,  springing  up  from  the  bank  and  throwing  off  coat 
and  waistcoat,  he  began  to  knot  one  end  of  the  completed 
line  about  his  waist,  the  men,  who  had  thus  far  seemed 
magnetized  to  do  his  bidding,  broke  out  in  cries  that 
Monny  drew  nigh  to  hear  :  — 

"For  God's  sake,  sir,  what  are  you  thinking  to  do? 
There's  no  mortal  man  can  go  through  that  sea  alive ! 
There's  more  than  one  of  us  would  be  ready  to  swim  off 
to  her  with  a  line  if  there  was  the  least  chance ;  but  we 
hnew,  with  the  first  sight  of  'em  there,  they  were  all  dead 
men." 

The  minister  seemed  to  hear  nothing  :  he  was  trying  tne 
strength  of  the  knot  with  which  he  had  fastened  the  rope 
about  him  ;  and  there  was  that  in  his  movements  which 
made  Skipper  Brickett  step  quickly  up  to  him  with,  — 


92  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"I  tell  you,  sir,  it's  not  for  you  to  tLrow  away  youi 
life  for  such  as  them  fellows  there !  It  seems  hard  on 
'era  to  say  it  now  in  their  extremity,  and  I  wouldn't  do 
it  if  it  wasn't  for  your  rushing  into  death  to  save  'em ; 
but  they  tempted  just  this  fate  that's  come  upon  'em. 
It's  'The  Rattler : '  I  knew  the  craft  the  minute  the  light 
ning  showed  her.  They're  a  set  of  dare-devils,  in  the 
carrying-trade  from  New  Orleans.  Spoke  'em  out  to  sea 
two  or  three  days  ago,  and  saw  'em  again  this  noon,  when 
1  run  into  harbor  myself,  and  come  home  by  the  cars. 
They  were  either  drunk  or  mad  to  risk  this  gale  along 
shore." 

The  minister  answered  not  a  syllable  as  all  this  was 
poured  rapidly  forth :  he  had  no  time  for  words,  watching 
to  snatch  that  fitful  torch  of  the  lightning  to  see  how 
those  raging  mountains  of  water  rose  and  fell.  And  the 
skipper,  looking  for  a  silent  moment,  as  none  could  help 
looking  who  saw,  at  the  face  and  figure  stretching  far 
over  the  surf  in  that  wild  leaping  light,  turned  and  took 
noiselessly  up  the  rope  at  a  few  yards'  distance. 

The  brave  mariners  of  these  Cape-Cod  shores  were  no 
respecters  of  persons  when  they  plunged  into  the  ocean, 
whose  perils  they  knew  so  well,  to  save  the  drowning. 
But,  when  they  saw  no  chance  of  saving,  they  could  but 
set  the  life  of  this  man,  who  in  the  few  weeks  he  had 
been  in  the  village  had  so  won  their  homage,  against  that 
of  some  careless,  drunken  wretches,  and  hold  him  back 
from  sharing  their  death  as  a  too  costly  offering. 

So  quietly,  as  Skipper  Briekett  turned  and  signalled 
them,  the  other  men,  too,  laid  hold  of  the  line,  forcibly  to 
restrain  the  minister,  who,  wheresoever  he  had  learned  to 
splice  ropes  like  a  sailor,  was  yet  a  landsman,  who,  in  pity 
of  the  awful  sight  before  them,  had  lost  his  reason. 

Kenyon  Leigh  perceived  nothing  of  these  movements : 


A   BEVEREND   IDOL.  93 

he  *as  too  intent  on  what  he  had  to  do,  for  he  had  not 
lost  his  reason.  No :  daring  to  the  last  limit  of  earthly 
daring,  there  was  yet  this  difference  between  a  rash  man 
and  a  bmve  one,  that  he  had  counted  the  chances,  and 
found  one,  against  the  ninety-nine,  for  him  to  reach  the 
wreck .  He  knew  that  he  had  at  the  very  outset  to  leap 
so  far  over  into  the  breakers  from  the  high  bank  as  to  clear 
the  undertow ;  and  the  only  possibility  of  achieving  this 
was  to  seize  that  greater  wave  which  ever  and  anon  camr 
rolling  in  a  little  nearer  than  the  rest,  and  go  out  on  its 
return.  If  he  could  accomplish  this,  then,  for  the  perils 
beyond,  his  power  to  hold  his  breath  a  little  longer  under 
water  than  a  slighter  man,  to  struggle  a  little  stronger 
over  it,  was  his  chance,  —  a  fearfully  dangerous  one,  but 
still  a  chance,  and  he  intended  to  take  it. 

All  these  things,  so  long  in  describing,  were  crowded 
in  the  doing  as  thought  and  action  crowd  in  such  straits 
of  death ;  and  it  was  not  until,  seeing  afar  his  oncoming 
wave,  he  drew  back  with  one  swift,  all-gathering  glance, 
for  that  rushing  leap  into  the  flood,  that  Mr.  Leigh  saw 
those  who  grasped  the  line,  and  their  purpose.  More 
thunderous  than  surge  or  sounding  hurricane  rose  his 
voice,  —  the  shout  of  a  man  who  is  trifled  with  in  the  one 
possible  moment  when  the  impossible  can  be  done, — 
"  Let  go  the  rope  !  "  And,  as  if  literally  stricken  off  by 
that  mighty  will,  every  hand  fell  from  it  for  an  instant ; 
and  the  next  instant  —  ah  !  what  was  there  to  do  but  still 
to  let  go  the  rope  ?  For  with  that  Titanic  rush  and  bound 
he  was  gone  —  he  was  battling  with  the. flood.  It  rolled 
hmi  under,  but  it  cast  him  up  again  ;  far  the  mountain- 
wave  whose  crest  he  had  caught  swept  him  beyond  the 
undertow ;  and,  seeing  this  great  escape,  the  men  on  the 
bank  threw  themselves  down,  and  with  breathless  watch 
ing  gave  out  the  rope  to  the  swimmer.  The  deep  gulfs 


94  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

of  the  monstrous  billows  hid  him,  and  the  awful  night ; 
but  when  he  went  into  it,  beyond  that  faint,  shifting 
penumbra  made  by  the  high,  wind-blown  lantern,  he  was 
alive,  and  struggling  onward  still,  and  in  dead  silence 
they  on  the  shore  still  gave  out  the  rope. 

For  the  girl  who  watched  among  them  with  dilating 
eyes  and  panting  breast,  the  question  she  had  asked  a 
few  hours  before  swallowed  her  whole  being  now  :  ' '  What 
is  the  man  ?  ' y 

Utterly  superhuman  he  had  seemed  to  her  from  the  first 
moment  of  his  rushing  up  to  the  old  flagstaff,  not  alone 
in  his  great  daring,  but  in  that  transcendent  power  to 
sweep  every  faculty  into  service  at  once,  whereby  the 
man  of  great  brain  who  has  any  gifts  for  action  can  rise 
superior  in  a  moment  to  all  experience,  and  "  mighty 
to  save,"  she  could  only  murmur  in  her  hushed  heart, 
remembering  every  idle  jest  she  had  ever  made  on  that 
Herculean  frame  which  could  so  second  now  the  heroic 
will. 

Would  it  bear  him  through?  Once,  twice,  the  black 
night  into  which  he  had  passed  was  pierced  for  an  instant 
by  those  sharp  lances  from  the  thunder-cloud.  The  first 
time,  an  awful  dread  froze  every  soul,  for  nothing  was 
to  be  seen  but  the  white  heads  of  the  breakers  in  their 
savage  might;  but  the  next — "  Tliey  see  him!"  cried 
the  girl  —  ' '  they  see  him  ! ' '  For  those  human  forms  on 
the  perishing  wreck  were  straining  out  over  the  sea  in  a 
new  attitude.  Surely  it  was  a  living  man  they  caught 
sight  of,  bringing  hope  of  life  to  them.  The  swift  dark 
ness  fell  again,  —  the  moments  seemed  ages,  —  but  at 
last,  at  last,  came  some  tightening  thrill  on  the  rope, 
whereat  the  sailors  on  the  bank  sprang  up  with  a  shout ; 
and  a  wild,  wild  shout  had  gone  up  ere  this  at  the  other 
end  of  the  line,  for  out  of  the  floods  they  had  drawn  their 
deliverer. 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  95 

Yea,  head  and  shoulders  above  the  rest,  the  watchers 
on  the  bank  could  see  him  stand  with  those  forms  on  the 
shattered  hulk,  when  the  next  lightning-glare  revealed 
them  ;  and  swiftly  enough  they  drew  the  slack  line  tense, 
and  made  it  fast  to  the  high  bank,  whose  height  was  an 
advantage  now,  bringing  the  rope  so  far  above  the  general 
sweep  of  the  waves,  that  the  men  who  began  to  pull 
themselves  hand  over  hand  all  its  length  to  the  shore 
were  immersed  only  now  and  then,  and  by  the  mere  tops 
of  the  breakers,  when  they  were  well  off  from  the  wreck. 

A  desperate  enough  feat  such  a  passage  —  over  that 
wild  gulf,  through  the  whirling  storm  and  darkness,  and 
anon  the  strangling  rush  of  the  waters  —  would  seem  to 
ordinary  mortals  ;  but  to  sailors  accustomed  to  stand  on 
nothing,  and  reef  topsails  in  a  gale,  it  was  practicable : 
the  desperate  question  was  whether  the  wreck,  which  waa 
the  only  pier  of  that  frail  bridge  in  the  boiling  sea,  would 
hold  out  till  they  were  all  over,  when  among  them  was 
a  woman  with  a  child,  and  one  helpless  man,  "  The 
Rattler's"  captain,  who  had  been  knocked  down  and 
disabled  by  one  of  the  falling  masts  of  the  vessel. 

To  improvise  a  car  out  of  a  box  and  pieces  of  rope, 
that  will  draw  human  beings  over  such  a  chasm,  has  been 
done  before  in  shipwreck ;  and  such  an  achievement 
would  have  seemed  nothing  now,  after  the  miracle  of 
swimming  the  breakers,  save  for  the  fearful  straitness 
of  the  time,  with  every  moment  beating  the  death-knell 
of  the  dissolving  vessel ;  while  to  work  by,  there  was  only 
the  dim  light  of  the  one  or  two  shattered  lanterns  that 
they  had  been  able  to  restore. 

But  the  sailors  escaping  over  the  rope  brought  with 
them  to  the  shore,  attached  to  their  persons,  the  lines  to 
draw  such  a  machine  by ;  and,  when  it  was  got  ready,  the 
poor  woman  on  the  wreck  was  naturally  the  first  to  be 


96  A   KEVEREND   IDOL. 

brought  off.  She  was  a  Creole  Spaniard  whom  the 
American  captain  had  taken  to  wife,  and  not  having 
the  slightest  doubt  in  her  Catholic  soul  that  the  man  who 
had  risen  up,  plainly  divine,  out  of  that  impassable  flood, 
was  the  patron-saint  to  whom  she  had  been  praying  in 
her  long  agony  of  terror,  —  with  this  faith,  and  her  being 
a  lithe,  active  creature,  wonted  to  rough  ways,  she  man 
aged,  with  her  child  lashed  securely  about  her,  so  to  aid 
herself  at  any  obstructions  in  the  passage,  that  she  was 
safely  pulled  through,  and  drawn  up  the  high  bank  by  the 
strong  hands  of  the  Cape-Cod  men,  drenched  and  gasp 
ing,  but  still  alive,  with  her  child. 

That  young  member  of  her  sex  who  received  her  there, 
blessed  to  have  one  being  among  these  sufferers  whose 
neck  she  could  properly  fall  on  and  cry,  of  course  sobbed 
over  her,  and  hugged  the  baby,  and  stripped  off  her  long 
cloak  to  wrap  the  pair  in,  all  in  a  breath.  And  the  poor 
woman,  apparently  taking  the  sympathetic  girl  for  an 
other  messenger  straight  from  the  Queen  of  Heaven, 
adjured  her  to  see  that  il  capitano  was  brought  over  in 
safety,  with  which  charge  the  half-fainting  mother  suf 
fered  herself,  for  the  sake  of  her  child,  to  be  carried 
away  to  the  little  house  of  the  Hines  family. 

Susannah  was  very  glad  by  this  time  to  go  away  out 
of  the  storm  with  this  cortege;  and  her  mistress  had  not 
come  beyond  the  little  Hines  house  at  all.  So  Monny 
was  now  left  alone  on  the  bank  with  the  men,  kneeling 
on  its  edge,  straining  her  eyes  to  see  into  that  black 
night,  where  the  desperate  struggle  for  life  still  went 
on.  Desperate  indeed  it  was  growing  to  the  three  men. 
all  that  were  left  now  on  the  wreck ;  viz.,  Mr.  Leigh,  the 
disabled  captain,  and  a  single  sailor,  a  young  Portuguese. 
All  the  rest  had  escaped  over  the  rope  while  the  prepara 
tions  went  on  to  carry  over  the  helpless  ones. 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  97 

How  the  last  of  these  men  came,  bringing  word  that 
the  captain  was  got  ready,  and  that  the  lines  must  be 
drawn  in  with  all  speed,  as  the  wreck  was  half  under 
water,  and  could  give  a  foothold  but  a  few  moments 
more;  how,  drawing  in  those  lines,  there  came,  when  but 
half  their  length  was  in,  some  obstruction,  a  dead  lock 
out  there  in  the  darkness  which  no  eye  could  pierce,  the 
Juifcning  roar  of  the  surge  through  which  no  voice  could 
call ;  how  there  were  moments  of  dread  waiting,  and  then 
a  gi?at  vibration,  a  sudden  dragging  fall  of  the  rope. 
whereat  the  men  who  held  it  sprang  up,  and  begun  draw 
ing  it  in  —  the  very  bridge,  —  how  these  things  passed 
Monny  knew  not:  a  terror  more  ghastly  than  had  been 
before  in  this  terrible  night  seemed  to  suspend  her  very 
breath. 

It  was  indeed  the  acme  of  its  perils.  The  two  men  on 
the  other  side  could  half  see  and  guess  the  rest  of  what 
had  happened;  viz.,  that  a  great  wave,  the  rope-bridge 
swaying  always  lower  with  the  sinking  wreck,  had  so 
whirled  and  tossed  the  rude  car  in  which  they  had  bound 
the  disabled  captain,  as  to  entangle  hopelessly  the  lines ; 
while,  still  worse,  the  swooning,  l&lf-drowned  man  was 
clutching  them  fast  in  his  convulsive  stupor.  In  this  ap 
palling  strait,  with  the  last  planks  going  beneath  their  feet, 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  for  both  the  remaining  men  to 
climb  out  at  once  by  the  rope  as  far  as  might  be,  and  then 
cut  it  away  behind  them,  trusting  to  be  hauled  in  through 
the  breakers. 

The  one  sailor  left  by  his  side  being  a  small,  agile  man, 
Mr.  Leigh  sent  him  on  in  advance  ;  then,  the  rope  sway 
ing  so  low  now,  that  his  own  weight  was  chiefly  sustained 
by  the  waters,  he  climbed  out  to  where  the  helpless  body 
of  the  captain  swung,  and,  grasping  the  rope  with  one  iron 
hand,  cut  it  away  with  the  other,  and  the  three  men  were 
in  the  sea 


98  A   REVEREND  IDOL. 

In  the  annihilating  rush  that  came  then  through  the 
waters,  Mr.  Leigh,  at  least,  had  power  to  remember  that 
the  weight  now  on  the  rope  would  fearfully  overstrain  it 
when  the  three  of  them  came  to  be  drawn  up  the  high 
bank ;  and  drawn  they  all  must  be,  because  of  that  fatal 
current  of  the  shore  made  by  the  undertow,  against  which 
the  strongest  swimmer  could  avail  nothing,  but  would  be 
swept  along  in  a  line  with  the  shore,  unable  to  make  an 
inch  towards  it. 

Knowing  well  these  perils,  Mr.  Leigh  decided  to  lighten 
the  over- weighted  line  by  throwing  himself  off  it  when 
it  was  drawn  close  in,  and  trust  for  his  own  life  to  the 
chance  of  seizing  some  fresh  rope  that  might  be  thrown 
out  to  him  from  the  bank.  Such  a  chance,  indeed,  saved 
him ;  for,  all  the  time  the  sailors  had  been  crawling  over 
the  line  from  the  wreck,  the  watchful  mariners  on  the  bank 
had  held  ready  to  throw  out,  in  case  any  of  them  should 
be  washed  off  by  the  breakers  in  their  transit,  a  rope  with 
an  iron  so  attached  to  its  end  that  it  could  be  aimed  with 
precision.  So  now,  in  these  last  dread  moments,  which 
might  bring  forth  none  knew  what,  Skipper  Brickett 
stood  waiting  with  tnis  barbed  rope ;  and,  discerning  the 
heads  of  the  struggling  men  as  they  came  within  the 
faint  circle  of  light  that  rayed  from  the  shore,  he  hurled 
it  with  such  skill  Mr.  Leigh  soon  laid  hold  of  it,  and, 
drawn  safely  through  the  surf,  he  was  on  the  bank  even 
before  the  other  rope  was  in. 

The  men  whom  he  had  saved  fell  at  his  feet.  As  for 
Monny,  as  soon  as  she  knew  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  verily 
brought  alive  again  out  of  the  deep,  she  kept  aloof, 
hanging  over  the  rope  by  which  those  other  lives  were 
suspended.  Thus  it  chanced  that  as  the  poor  young  Por 
tuguese  (not  skilled  as  Mr.  Leigh  was  in  holding  his  breath 
under  water)  was  drawn,  a  perfectly  helpless  and  appai 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  99 

ently  drowmxl  man,  up  the  bank,  and  the  tangle  of  ropea 
and  hoards  by  which  the  other  insensible  being  swung  came 
but  slowly  up  the  high  cliff,  Monny,  woman-like,  forget 
ting  herself  and  her  own  footing,  as  she  reached  down  her 
insufficient  young  arms  in  a  wild  impulse  to  help,  lost  her 
balance,  and,  slipping  on  the  crumbling  sand,  would  have 
gone  headlong  over  the  cliff  into  the  breakers  but  for  two 
or  three  hands  that  caught  her  back. 

Mr.  Leigh's  was  among  them,  and  as  he  set  her  on  her 
feet  he  fairly  shook  her. 

"That  ever  a  rational  being  should  run  such  senseless 
risks!"  he  said,  transporting  her,  as  if  she  had  been  a 
kitten,  several  yards  back  from  her  dangerous  position. 

"I  wanted  to  do  something,"  gasped  Mouny,  in  the 
grasp  of  Hercules,  which  was  sufficiently  vigorous  to 
suggest  to  the  girl  that  he  was  good  for  a  dozen  ship 
wrecks  more  on  the  spot. 

"  Do  what  you  can  do,  then  !  "  he  answered,  in  only  a 
lower  note  of  that  tone  in  which  he  had  cried  erewhile  on 
the  shore,  "  Let  go  the  rope  !  "  "  Go  home  this  moment, 
put  on  dry  clothing,  and  see  if  you  can  get  these  poor 
people  something  to  eat." 

The  stringent  vehemence  with  which  he  spoke  was  only 
the  involuntary  vibration  in  the  man  of  the  tremendous 
shock  that  the  sight  of  Monny  tumbling  over  the  cliff  had 
caused  him.  He  had  not  been  really  aware  of  her  presence 
at  all  until  that  instant ;  and  the  perceiving  how  drenched 
and  shivering  was  this  delicate,  girlish  frame,  all  un 
cloaked  as  Monny  was  now  in  the  storm,  thrilled  him 
with  some  apprehension  that  all  the  mortal  exposures  of 
this  night  had  scarcely  stirred  before.  Thus  to  send  her 
tvdere  her  sympathies  could  be  expended  with  safety  to 
herself,  and  some  practical  benefit  to  the  sufferers,  was 
his  only  thought ;  but  in  this  strongly-moved  moment  it 


100  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

found  expression  in  a  style  which  certainly  savored,  as  no 
word  of  his  to  Miss  Monuy  had  ever  done  before,  of  the 
"  domineering." 

But  meeker  than  ever  was  Moses,  —  for  Moses  had  not 
been  a  light-tongued  girl  making  fun  of  a  great  man  as  a 
paltry  one,  —  and  brought  to  repentance  by  such  a  night 
as  this,  the  maiden  heard  and  obeyed :  yea,  as  Mr.  Leigh 
turned  to  examine  the  insensible  men  whom  they  were 
preparing  to  carry  away,  Monny  paused  only  for  a  word 
of  inquiry  about  them,  then,  softly  calling  her  dog,  she 
ran  through  the  gale  and  the  darkness  for  the  Ilines 
house.  Panting  enough,  she  arrived  there,  but  stopped 
merely  to  call  Susannah  to  the  door,  and  tell  her,  for  the 
poor  wife's  sake,  that  they  were  bringing  the  captain 
straight  on  to  the  house,  and  that  they  did  not  know  but 
he  might  be  still  alive.  Then,  taking  her  cloak,  she  went 
straight  on  for  home ;  Mrs.  Doane,  who  supposed  that 
some  of  the  villagers  were  along  with  her,  being  very 
glad  to  have  her  return  at  once  to  the  shelter  of  her  own 
roof. 

All  alone,  however,  with  Duke  George,  Monny  ran 
swiftly  up  the  long,  pitch-black  lane,  in  the  small  hours 
of  the  night,  in  her  desperate  eagerness  to  reach  what  she 
had  so  longed  to  find  in  the  last  hour  of  looking  help 
lessly  on  at  masculine  power  and  skill;  viz.,  woman's 
opportunity  to  be  a  little  useful.  That,  it  seemed,  was 
still  at  home, — cooking  victuals,  to  be  sure.  Instead  of 
hanging  over  that  wild  sea,  every  throb  of  her  heart 
g training  with  the  strain  of  those  struggling  lives,  where 
gliould  she  have  been  the  last  hour?  Industriously  put 
ting  the  kettle  on  for  tea. 

Well,  the  convicted  Monny  ran  for  her  sphere  now  with 
might  and  main:  how  she  shone  in  it  will  be  seen  in 
another  chapter. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  301 


CHAPTER   VII. 

IT  must  be  confessed  that  Miss  Monny  Rivers  waa 
not  prepared  to  shine  in  the  kitchen  department  of 
woman's  sphere  by  any  previous  practice.  In  the  sewing 
department  she  was  very  excellently  accomplished,  having 
been  in  the  habit  of  teaching  poor  girls  how  to  cut  and 
make  their  own  dresses  by  patterns.  But  although  she  had 
learned  that  it  was  desirable  for  all  women,  of  whatever 
station,  to  have  skill  with  the  needle,  she  had  never  made 
the  same  discovery  with  reference  to  the  culinary  art. 

Her  aunt  Helen  was  a  lady  whom  cooks  never  deserted 
in  a  huff.  The  apparently  un  forcible  Mrs.  Slab  well  yet 
kept  an  American  domestic  establishment,  with  the  usual 
Milesian  retinue  of  servants,  rolling  on  the  softest  and 
smoothest  of  wheels  year  in  and  year  out :  so  it  had  never 
occurred  to  Miss  Monny  that  break-downs  in  the  kitchen, 
requiring  the  mistress  personally  to  officiate  there,  were 
among  the  contingencies  of  life.  In  short,  the  present 
contingency  was  the  first  time  in  Monny 's  mortal  exist 
ence  that  she  had  been  summoned  to  produce  ' '  something 
to  eat "  on  her  sole  responsibility. 

True,  she  had  once  attended  a  lecture  by  Professor 
Hlot,  aunt  Helen  having  bought  a  ticket  to  the  course  as 
one  of  her  social  duties.  On  that  occasion  of  privilege, 
as  Mouny  remembered  now  with  remorse,  after  she  had 
dutifully  minded  the  composition  of  three  varieties  of 
syllabub,  the  procession  of  ladies  solemnly  filing  up  to 
the  professor  with  their  individual  spoons  for  tasting,  so 


102  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

tickled  her  fancy,  that  she  spent  the  rest  of  the  houi  draw 
ing  a  caricature  of  the  same.  She  could  have  wept  now, 
recalling  this  levity.  But  at  least,  she  said  to  herself,  as 
she  ran  splashing  through  mud  and  water,  she  could  ran 
sack  the  larder,  and  set  forth  its  cold  provisions  in  order. 
And  for  hot  provisions,  certainly  the  first  preliminary 
would  be  a  fire  ;  and,  consoled  by  remembrance  of  the  (.id 
proverb  that  it  took  a  fool  to  make  a  fire,  she  arrived  at 
the  dark  house,  and  rushed  for  her  chamber.  There  she 
changed  her  wet  garments  with  more  care  for  herself  than 
she  might  have  staid  to  take  but  for  fear,  that,  if  she 
should  even  sneeze  on  the  morrow,  a  certain  man  would 
regard  her  as  a  troublesome  imbecile,  who  ran  senseless 
risks  (the  risks  of  men  were  taken  to  some  purpose)  ;  then 
plunging  down  to  the  kitchen  she  attacked  —  that  new 
cooking-range  of  special  memory.  The  new  stove  was 
insanely  rich  in  modern  improvements ;  and,  in  spite  of 
the  proverb,  getting  a  locomotive  in  running  order  would 
not  have  looked  much  more  formidable  to  Monny  than  the 
firing-up  of  this  engine,  stuffed,  as  the  grate  was  at  this 
hour  of  the  night,  with  dying  coals,  too  dead  to  be  re 
vived  into  burning  again,  yet  decidedly  too  alive  in  their 
deceitful  grayness  to  be  plucked  out  by  the  maiden's  bare 
fingers  ;  which  tender  implements,  in  the  impotence  of 
shovels,  and  the  wild  impossibility  of  discovering  the 
peculiar  yank  of  the  dumper,  the  neopyhte  stoker  at  first 
tit  tempted  to  thrust  into  the  heap.  A  considerably  wise 
fool,  indeed,  was  required  to  make  a  fire  in  this  machine  ; 
for  when  by  dint  of  iron  spoons,  pewter  skimmers,  egg- 
beaters,  all  the  tinware  in  the  pantry  that  would  scoop 
(the  bowls  of  the  pewter  implements  pleasantly  melting 
off  with  the  heat  of  the  cinders,  and  leaving  Monny  dig 
ging  away  with  the  handle), — when  by  these  sacrifices, 
and  the  indispensable  fingers  wound  in  wet  woollen,  rags 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  103 

and  making  dexterous  dives  all  the  while,  the  mountain  of 
hot  embers  was  at  last  triumphantly  cast  out  independent 
of  dumpers,  and  the  empty  grate  joyfully  crammed  with 
kindlings,  then  began  the  snarl  of  dampers,  seen  and 
unseen,  which  bewitched  the  thing  before,  behind,  anA  on 
all  sides. 

To  know  how  to  open  and  shut  these  attachments,  what 
was  the  effect  of  their  opening  or  shutting,  and  when  they 
wei?  open  or  shut,  —  this  riddle  might  have  been  longer 
ic  the  solving,  but  that  the  hurricane  of  wind  which  was 
blowing  at  present  pronounced  on  these  points  with  such 
staccato  of  belching  smoke  or  roaring  flame,  that  Monny 
only  strangled  a  few  times,  and  singed  off  some  front 
locks  of  her  hair,  before  she  had  all  the  stops  of  her  new 
instrument  drawn  out,  and  kindling-wood,  charcoal,  and 
the  solid  anthracite  itself,  going  at  full  blast.  In  the 
latter  stages  of  this  combustion  she  had  flown  about  and 
cleared  the  kitchen  of  ash-pans,  and  wrecks  of  tinware 
(she  proposed  to  pay  for  her  damages),  made  clean  her 
fair  begrimed  hands  with  soap  and  water,  filled  high  the 
teakettle,  and  begun  to  set  the  table,  and  still  Duke 
George  was  her  sole  companion.  No  feet  yet  came  on 
the  doorstone.  Having  an  impression  that  the  masculine 
digestion  would  survive,  even  after  shipwreck,  in  some  of 
its  native  contempt  for  cakes,  Monny  had  examined  wist 
fully  the  only  supply  of  meats  which  the  small  family  luul 
on  hand  in  this  warm  season  ;  viz.,  a  pound  or  so  of  beef 
steak,  and  a  pair  of  chickens.  She  was  gazing  into  the 
refrigerator  at  these  provisions,  especially  at  the  chickens, 
which  seemed  to  be  in  some  mysterious  state,  — not  exactly 
taw,  yet  not  ready  for  the  table :  she  was  desperately 
wishing  that  she  knew  how  to  get  them  ready,  —  when  there 
was  a  noise  of  men  arriving  at  the  house-door,  and  directly 
the  welcome  Susannah  bounced  into  the  kitchen. 


104  A   REVEREND   IDOL 

"  Sakes  alive,  honey !  Hev  you  got  such  a  blessed  fire 
as  dis  yer  agoiii'  all  by  yerself  ?  And  all  the  nasty  ashes 
—  how  ever  did  you  know  how  to  dump  him?  " 

44  Are  they  alive?"  asked  Monny,  appearing  from  the 
pantry,  thinking  first  of  those  two  corpse-like  figures  that 
she  had  seen  lifted  out  of  the  deep. 

44  Jess  what  we've  been  doin'  so  long,  tryin'  to  see  if 
they  was  clean  done  gone  forever.  De  young  one,  de 
little  furriner,  he  come  to  pretty  soon:  he  was  mostly 
stunned,  an'  he'd  swallered  some  ob  de  sea ;  but  dey  roll 
him,  an'  rub  him,  an'  he  come  to  an'  speak.  But  he's 
powerful  weak,  an'  he's  got  to  stay  to  de  Hines's.  And 
de  cap'n  —  dey  work  over  him  all  de  time  ;  an'  missis  she 
rub  him,  and  give  him  hot  tings,  an'  at  las'  he  breve  jess 
a  little.  He  dunno  nuthin',  an'  he's  got  bones  broke; 
but  he  breve :  so  mebbe  he'll  pull  troo,  after  all.  An' 
de  doctor's  dere  now :  so  missis  is  comin'  home  berry 
soon,  an'  his  Honor,  who  is  one  mighty  angel  ob  de  Lord, 
sure,  an'  de  winds  an'  de  sea  obey  him!"  .All  which 
Susannah  poured  out  in  a  breath,  as  she  was  getting  off 
her  wet  outer  garments  and  over-shoes,  and  lighting  a 
lamp. 

44  An'  his  Honor  told  me  to  put  de  men  right  up  into  his 
room  to  change  'em.  Dere's  tree  of  'em  come  along  wid 
me,  an'  waitin'  now  in  dere  soppin'  close  in  de  entry  ;  an' 
dere's  morea-comin'  wid  his  Honor  :  so,  seeiu'  y  m've  got 
tings  a-goin'  so  bright  an'  shiiiin'  here,  I'll  jess  fly  right 
round  up-stairs,  an'  get  dere  dry  close  de  fus  ting ;  Missis 
tole  me  where  to  find  'cm. "  With  which  discharge  of  words 
the  handmaid  vanished  ;  Monny,  feeling  that  she  must  not 
detain  her  an  instant  now,  reserving  her  questions  about 
supper  till  she  should  re-appear.  But  Susannah  was  long 
gone :  in  fact,  one  of  the  sailors,  another  youth  of  about 
twenty,  less  robust  than  the  older  men  who  made  most  of 


A  KI:VI:UI:ND  IDOL.  105 

the  crew,  fell  in  a  fainting-fit,  soon  after  he  was  got  up 
stairs,  followed  by  violent  chills  and  nausea;  so  that  with 
the  cure  of  getting  this  patient  to  bed,  and  hunting  up 
clothing  for  the  others,  Susannah  was  quite  takpn  up  for 
the  present. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  general  arrival  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Doane,  — Mr.  Leigh  and  six  more  of  the  shipwrecked 
men  to  stay  there  ;  this  house  being  nearer  the  scene  of 
tue  disaster  than  any  other,  except  that  little  cabin  oc 
cupied  by  the  Hines  family,  which  was  more  than  full 
with  the  two  men  who  could  not  be  moved,  and  the  poor 
woman  who  was  the  wife  of  one  of  them.  Also  they 
had  brought  the  baby  in  this  company,  to  relieve  the  ex 
hausted  mother  of  its  care  while  she  watched  her  husband 
hovering  between  life  and  death ;  and  when  the  bed-quill 
in  which  it  had  been  wrapped  to  bring  it  again  through 
the  storm  was  unwound  by  the  kitchen-fire,  disclosing  a 
plump  little  girl  about  a  year  and  a  half  old,  with  black 
eyes  shining  like  buttons,  and  when  Monny  had  brought 
one  of  her  little  cashmere  morning-jackets,  and  improvised 
a  tunic  for  the  darling,  in  addition  to  such  dry  garments 
as  the  Hines  family  had  been  able  to  reclothe  it  in,  the 
small  shipwrecked  was  in  much  more  comfortable  case 
than  it  had  been  any  time  before  that  night. 

Nevertheless,  when  it  had  taken  slow  and  solemn  survey 
of  the  new  premises,  with  its  black  eyes  growing  bigger 
and  blacker  every  moment,  it  began  to  cry  aloud  with  fear. 
Its  wondering  baby-soul  may  have  stood  still  through 
( ither  awe  or  attention  during  the  various  cracks  of  doom 
through  which  it  had  passed :  it  had  certainly  eudmvd 
bt  ing  dragged,  head  downward,  through  thunder  and  sea, 
ani  all  the  other  terrors  of  the  night,  with  comparative 
quiet;  but,  now  that  it  was  entirely  safe  and  sound,  the 
poor  liitlc  daughter  of  Eve  considered  that  it  was  time 
to  have  an  attack  of  nerves. 


106  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Mrs.  Doane  perceiving,  through  whatever  nice  learning 
in  infant  shrieks,  that  the  much-tried  baby  was  in  a  fever 
of  fright  rather  than  in  any  physical  distress,  and  being 
imperatively  needed  up-stairs  as  well  as  Susannah,  left 
the  screaming  child  entirely  to  Monny's  devices.  Tht 
tenderest  of  these  were  wholly  unavailing  to  pacify  it.  The 
fair  face  of  the  new  nurse  was  regarded,  to  be  sure,  with 
a  moment's  toleration  by  the  wondering  black  eyes,  then, 
happening  to  remember  that  it  was  not  the  order  of  beaut} 
that  it  was  accustomed  to,  the  lost  baby  yelled  in  Spanish 
with  madder  outcry  than  ever. 

M  onny  was  distractedly  tugging  the  kicking  infant  up 
and  down  the  room,  feeling  quite  ready  to  cry  herself, 
when  a  pair  of  strong  arms  were  reached  suddenly  ovci 
her  head,  and  Mr.  Leigh,  who  had  just  emerged  from  his 
room,  dry  clothed,  strode  off  with  the  little  howler.  The 
miraculous  thing  was,  that  it  ceased  to  howl  immediately, 
—  a  miracle  which  the  discarded  nurse  beheld,  through  all 
her  relief  on  the  baby's  account,  with  some  mysterious 
touch  of  disturbance  on  her  own.  Apparently  the  ma 
gician  took  no  very  laborious  pains.  With  the  baby  on  one 
arm,  only  saying  to  it  now  and  then  some  merry,  coaxing 
word,  he  was  all  over  the  house,  in  the  darkness  or  the 
light,  as  he  went  from  one  room  to  another,  looking  after 
the  men  ;  yet  that  restored  infant  purred  confidingly  away 
on  his  shoulder,  plucked  delightedly  at  his  whiskers,  drank 
peacefully  out  of  the  porringer  which  he  held  to  its  lips,  — 
that  identical  porringer  which  it  had  madly  dashed  out  of 
Monny's  hand  when  she  wooed  it  to  imbibe  just  such 
another  milk-and-sugared  mixture  as  it  drained  the  dish 
of  now,  — and  then  went  to  sleep,  with  its  small  Catholic 
n  >se  buried  in  the  heretic  minister's  coat-sleeve  (the  child 
was  a  girl,  and  probably  accepted  the  heretic  for  the  sake 
of  the  minister,  —  the  child  was  a  girl).  The  minister, 


A  KI:VI:IM:ND  IDOL.  107 

to  be  sure,  after  administering  the  porringer,  did  take  two 
or  three  quiet  turns  up  and  down  the  front  sitting-room, 
empty  just  tiien,  stroking  the  bewildered  little  head  that 
had  been  through  so  much,  till  it  sank  off  unconscious,  tc 
be  pillowed,  sound  asleep  for  the  rest  of  the  night,  in  Mrs. 
Doane's  bedroom.  But  had  not  she,  Monny,  stroked  its 
head,  and  with  much  affection?  and  it  had  only  boui.ced 
the  more. 

The  young  woman  who  saw  herself  thus  vanquished  in 
the  supreme  feminine  office  of  baby-tending  by  a  man 
surveyed  his  doings  only  furtively  and  from  afar,  being 
extremely  busy  the  while  in  enlarging  the  table  accom 
modations,  etc.  For  being  the  most  unsuitable  person  in 
the  house  to  be  running  about  among  men  more  or  less 
deshabille,  bringing  them  fresh  changes  of  clothing, 
Monny's  labors  were  still  confined  below  stairs,  where 
as  yet  she  had  no  assistant.  Susannah,  indeed,  sup 
posing,  after  the  young  lady's  exploit  with  the  range, 
that  she  was  equal  to  any  thing,  called  to  her  down  the 
back  stairs,  just  as  the  minister  was  disposing  of  his 
baby,  to  say,  — 

44  Miss  Monny,  dere's  some  ob  de  men  might  begin  to 
hab  dere  supper  now,  if  you'd  jess  clap  dat  ar  beefsteak 
right  on  de  coals,  and  let  it  go  fur  as  'twill,  an'  I'll  be 
down  in  a  minute  an'  knock  up  somethin'  else  for  de  rest. 
De  gridiron  is  in  de  pantry.  You  jess  take  de  tops  ob  de 
stove  clean  off,  an'  clap  him  right  on  de  coals.  Turn  him 
fus  one  side  an*  den  todder,  you  know:  dat's  all." 
According  to  which  bulletin  of  instructions  Monny  flew 
for  the  gridiron,  cast  down  as  to  her  failure  with  tht 
baby,  but  lifted  up  as  to  her  triumphant  success  with 
the  fire.  For  the  patent  range,  with  all  the  stops  out,  was 
by  this  time  a  red-hot  furnace,  —  alas  !  too  fiery  a  furnace  ; 
for  the  steak,  "  clapped  right  on  de  coals,"  was  burnt 


108  A   RETEREND   IDOL 

to  blackness  before  ever  the  amateur  cook  supposed  i 
time  to  make  the  first  turn  of  the  gridiron.  "Oh,  I 
didn't  know  there  was  such  a  power  in  fire!"  moaned 
Monny,  as,  turning  up  the  gridiron,  she  beheld  her  broil 
ing.  But  there  was  no  more  steak  in  the  house ;  and 
heroically  serving  with  the  burnt  side  upward,  that  no 
body  might  be  snared  by  her  cooking  unawares,  she 
carried  the  platter  to  the  table,  where  Mr.  Leigh  was 
just  seating  three  or  four  of  the  men.  Rather  more 
hopefully  she  brought  in  her  tea  and  coffee  ;  for  she  had 
made  a  cup  of  tea  some  moments  before  for  the  sick  man 
up-stairs,  according  to  another  bulletin  of  directions  shot 
down  the  back  staircase  by  Susannah ;  and,  as  Monny 
could  follow  directions  accurately,  her  tea  had  been  pro 
nounced  "f us-rate"  by  the  critical  Susannah.  So  she 
had  joyfully  proceeded  to  make  not  only  a  large  potful 
of  tea,  but  one  of  coffee  ;  making  the  latter  by  exactly 
the  same  rule  which  Susannah  had  imparted  for  the  tea ; 
viz.,  "A  small  teaspoonful  to  a  pusson,"  pouring  on 
boiling  water,  and  setting  the  pot  in  a  merely  warm  place, 
to  "draw." 

If  Monny  had  been  a  drinker  of  tea  and  coffee  herself, 
she  might  have  had  a  grain  more  intuition  about  the  mak 
ing  of  these  beverages  ;  but  she  drank  neither.  She  had, 
however,  a  floating  impression  that  coffee  had  some  dis 
tinctive  need  of  being  settled,  and  that  eggs  were  used 
in  the  process, — yes,  she  remembered  just  now  Kitty 
Ellison  picnicking  with  Mr.  Arburton,  in  "A  Chance 
Acquaintance."  • 

' '  Mr.  Arburton  saw  her  break  the  egg  upon  the  edge 
of  the  coffee-pot,  and  let  it  drop  therein,  and  then,  with 
a  charming  frenzy,  stir  it  round  and  round."  Blessing 
the  instructive  reminiscence,  she  repeated  this  passage 
now  to  herself,  as  if  it  had  been  a  recipe,  and  supposing, 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  109 

of  course,  that  the  settling  operation  must  be  the  last 
business  before  carrying  the  coffee  to  the  table,  she  broke 
her  egg,  stirring  it  violently  in  with  a  long-handled  spoon, 
scalding  her  much-enduring  hands  with  the  hot  -splashes, 
then  rushing  for  the  table  to  pour  out  the  delicious  slops 
(every  sailor  of  them  had  declared  for  coffee  instead  of 
tea)  before  the  virtue  of  the  stirring  should  expire. 

Alas,  again  !  and  alas !  The  clear  amber  °tream  that 
was  wont  to  pour  from  aunt  Helen's  and  Mrs.  Doane's 
breakfast  urns  was  sufficiently  removed,  even  to  the  eye, 
from  the  weakly  muddy  tide  that  Monny's  coffee-pot  dis 
charged,  for  the  mortified  cook  to  perceive  her  failure,  as 
did  also  the  watchful  Mr.  Leigh,  who  took  the  vessel 
from  the  girl's  trembling  hand,  ostensibly  to  relieve  her 
of  its  weight,  but  really  to  set  the  whirling  fluid  down 
to  recover  itself  after  its  "settling,"  Monny,  meanwhile, 
hearing  that  "Do  what  you  can  do"  thundering  in  her 
ears  with  quite  awful  echo. 

Certainly,  however,  there  was  no  thunder,  nothing  in 
the  least  awful,  in  Mr.  Leigh's  present  manner.  He  was 
carving  that  steak  as  if  it  were  so  delicious,  that,  smitten 
himself  with  a  sudden  and  vast  appetite,  he  must  needs 
divide  unto  his  own  plate  all  the  most  beautifully  charred 
portions  thereof ;  then,  when  Monny  was  looking  the 
other  way,  or  when  he  supposed  she  was,  he  so  adroitly 
pared  the  rest  as  really  to  extract  some  quite  tolerable 
morsels  for  the  sailors.  Just  now,  moreover,  Susannah 
made  a  providential  transit  through  the  dining-room  witn 
a  mammoth  coffee-pot  in  hand,  whose  contents  she  had 
been  distributing  up  stairs,  having  herself  snatched  some 
unknown  moment  to  brew  the  same  when  Monny  was 
absorbed  with  the  screaming  baby.  Mr.  Leigh,  having 
eyes  everywhere  at  present,  arrested  the  handmaid,  sug 
gesting,  with  an  artful  plausibility  that  was  rather  a  new 


110  A  EEVEREND   IDOL. 

growth  in  his  character,  that  she  fill  the  sailors'  cups 
with  the  remains  of  her  coffee,  as  perhaps  the  coffee-pot 
on  the  table  was  a  little  cooled,  and  had  best  go  back  to 
the  fire.  By  these  inventions  the  famished  mariners  did 
not  go  quite  hungry,  it  will  be  seen.  As  for  Mr.  Leigh, 
pouring  out  unto  himself  enormous  libations  of  Monny's 
successful  tea  (he  had  a  marked  preference  for  coffee), 
he  washed  down  therewith  his  plate  of  bitter  cinders 
without  a  grimace. 

None  of  these  specious  proceedings  deceived,  however, 
the  young  waitress  on  the  table,  who  rushed  into  the 
kitchen  the  second  Susannah  had  set  foot  there,  to  seize 
from  her  hand  that  decoction  of  egg-water  tinctured  with 
coffee-grains  which  had  "cooled,"  dash  it  out  of  doors, 
and  return  the  empty  coffee-pot  to  the  black  woman,  who 
seemed  to  Monny  at  that  moment  the  perfect  ideal  of  her 
sex,  with,  "  Make  some  more  coffee ;  and  let  me  see  you 
do  it,  every  inch." 

"Bless  you,  honey!  mos'  likely  you  didn't  make  him 
strong  enough,"  responded  the  expert,  pouring  in  the 
Java  by  the  teacupful,  instead  of  poor  Monny's  little 
teaspoon  measures.  "  Men  always  want  a  great  deal 
more  power  in  dere  vittles  an'  drink  dan  women.  Jess 
bring  me  a  egg  to  clear  him  —  dere  —  so  —  you  break  him 
in,  shell  and  all,  de  fus  ting;  "  and  Mouny,  beholding, 
saw  at  which  end  of  the  process  of  coffee-making  Kitty 
Ellison  stirred  in  the  egg  with  that  charming  frenzy. 
"  Now  I  pour  on  de  hot  water,"  continued  the  illustrate r, 
"  when  de  teakettle  don't  fairly  bile,  but  only  kin  >«si  tlz^ 
\  ers,  an'  den  I  set  de  pot  jess  where  he'll  bile  deep  an* 
steady,  but  still,  as  you  may  say,  softly,  'bout  ten,  fifteen 
m limits, -  —  ten  minnits'll  do  for  now, — an'  by  dat  time 
de  rest  ob  de  men'll  be  down  for  dere  supper,  an'  den, 
ef  I  ain't  here,  you  take  him  off  an'  pour  in  jess  a  little 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  Ill 

cold  water  to  settle  him  fore  you  carry  him  to  table  mild 
and  lubly  so  as  not  to  rile  him  a  grain."  And  Susannah 
was  back  in  the  diuiug-room  before  these  words  had  well 
left  her  lips,  taking  a  comprehensive  look  at  the  tablo, 
then  saying  in  Mr.  Leigh's  ear,  — 

"  Your  Honor,  dere's  a  pair  of  parbiled  chickens  in  de 
fridgrator  dal  I  can  make  a  hot  stew  of  in  no  time  ;  but 
I'se  got  to  fly  round  fus  up  stairs  along  o'  some  trousers 
an'  tings  dat's  jess  been  sent  from  de  village  to  help  nx 
out  de  men." 

44  Well,  if  you  will  give  me  the  chickens,  I  think  I  can 
manage  the  stew,"  said  Mr.  Leigh  in  the  need  there  was 
for  hastening  supper,  and  being  informed  by  Susannah 
that  he  could  not  officiate  just  then  about  "  de  trousers 
an'  tings." 

Monny  did  not  hear  this  dialogue,  as  she  was  bringing 
a  fresh  plate  of  bread  from  the  pantry  ;  but  she  noted  how 
Mr.  Leigh  rose  up,  and  went  into  the  kitchen  with  Susan 
nah,  then,  presently  hearing  that  heavy-footed  handmaid 
travelling  up  the  back  stairs  again,  she  a  little  wondered 
what  Mr.  Leigh  was  up  to  in  the  kitchen  all  by  himself. 
So,  stepping  in  range  of  the  open  doors,  she  looked  out 
to  see,  and,  by  the  stars  above,  if  he  wasn't  making  ready 
that  stew-pot  with  all  the  savoir  faire  of  a  first-class 
hotel  cook ! 

Dismembering  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  those  for 
midable  animals  that  she  had  not  dared  to  meddle  with, 
stowing  them  snug  in  the  kettle,  pouring  in  some  myste 
rious  jellied  gravy  out  of  a  dish,  sprinkling  away  with 
dredging-boxes,  —  Monny's  cheeks,  which  were  vivid 
enough  before  with  all  that  she  had  been  through,  began 
to  burn  like  pomegranate-blossoms  at  the  sight.  Here 
was  a  royal  Alfred  who  would  have  minded  the  peasant- 
woman's  cakes,  and  not  burnt  them.  Monny  had  an  in- 


112  A  EEVEREND   IDOL. 

tense  respect  for  capacity,  and  some  inward  sense  that 
she  was  herself  apt  and  willing  to  learn,  and  did  not 
rightly  belong  among  the  blunderers,  and,  through  all  the 
awe  with  which  she  had  bowed  before  the  hero  who  had 
conquered  the  death-raging  flood,  there  began  to  stir  in 
her  now,  some  instinct  of  her  own  personality  not  to  be 
utterly  abased  and  abolished,  —  a  passionate  inquiry  as  to 
why  this  potent  masculinity  was  equal  to  all  things,  small 
and  great,  and  she  to  nothing.  Was  the  secret  in  some 
quality  of  nature,  or  of  training  whereof  she  had  been 
highly  defrauded?  asked  the  girl,  as  she  watched  his 
Serenity  setting  the  pot  over  the  fire.  Then  suddenly,  as 
one  who  arraigned  the  universe  to  know  why  her  attain 
ments  were  knowledge  of  syllabub  in  three  kinds,  while 
he  was  solidly  furnished  to  the  occasion,  whatever  it 
was,* she  made  an  indignant  dive  at  the  man,  demanding, 
"  Where  did  you  learn  to  do  chicken-stews?  " 

The  royal  Alfred  turned  at  this  onset,  to  behold  the 
pomegranate  cheeks,  the  eyes  blazing  like  two  stars, 
and  made  leisurely  answer,  ' '  Well,  I  think  I  came  by 
this  accomplishment  (knowing  poke  of  a  drumstick  under 
water)  in  rather  disorderly  ways,  not  to  be  recommended 
to  young  ladies  (scientific  shake  of  the  dredger).  Sur 
rcptitious  suppers  with  my  mates  when  I  was  a  boy  awa; 
at  school,  fowls  roasted  in  the  small  hours  of  the  nigb 
over  fire-grates  not  especially  designed  for  cookery  (sag? 
cious  adding  of  a  little  more  hot  water  to  the  stew) ,  -  - 
these  furnished  my  first  practice,  I  believe,  in  this  art, 
perfected  afterwards  by  some  camping-out  experiences 
with  my  brothers  in  college  vacations,  when  our  servant 
fell  ill,"  continued  Mr.  Leigh,  rather  lingering  over  these 
explanations,  noting  what  a  picture  Monny  made  the 
while.  It  was  not  the  mere  scarlet  of  her  cheeks,  and 
the  white  of  her  forehead,  and  the  tossed  glory  >f  her 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  113 

hair,  but  the  rueful,  half-defiant,  passionately  in-earnest  air 
with  which  she  spoke,  and  listened,  only  half  appeased,  to 
his  words  of  reply,  then  silently  turned,  and  slowly  with 
drew  to  the  dining-room,  her  head  flung  back  over  her 
curved  shoulder,  her  eyes  dwelling  on  that  supper-kettle, 
as  if  it  contained  some  problem  of  destiny.  Mr.  Leigh 
watched  this  receding  vision  with  a  musing  smile,  think 
ing  what  a  beautiful,  wilful,  mysteriously  charming  child 
it  was.  He  thought  this  for  a  moment,  perhaps  it  was  a 
long  moment ;  but  then,  for  charming  children  were  as 
yet  not  quite  ascendent  over  his  permanent  mood,  his  face 
grew  abstract  with  graver  musings  as  he  waited  at  his 
novel  post :  he  was  thinking  of  the  men  in  the  other 
room,  how  the  very  sea  had  cast  up  to  him  the  old 
problems. 

The  shipwrecked  crew,  most  of  them  of  Anglo-Saxon 
speech  and  blood,  were  all  gathering  there  now,  —  in  the 
dining-room,  which  was  the  largest  room  in  the  house,  it 
having  been  the  kitchen  of  the  original  square  dwelling, 
since  built  out  in  indefinite  extension  in  the  rear.  This 
now  central  room  still  retained  its  huge  old-fashioned  lire- 
place,  on  v.-hose  hearth  Mouny  had  bethought  herself  to 
kimlle  a  bright  blaze,  round  which  the  sailors  instinctively 
drew  as  they  came  iu. 

Skipper  IJrickett  had  not  named  amiss  these  depraved 
seamen,  who  half  in  drink,  and  wholly  reckless,  had 
dared  needlessly,  and  with  a  woman  and  child  on  board, 
a  gale  off  a  highly  dangerous  coast.  Monny,  who  had 
seen  merely  rough  sailors  before,  had  never  seen  such 
faces  is  came  into  view  around  this  hearth-lire  :  the  New- 
York  minister  had  seen  —  oh,  how  many  of  them  ! 

As  he  came  presently  in  among  them  now  (Susannah 
having  finally  appeared  to  serve  up  the  stew,  and  wait  on 
the  table),  the  girl,  whose  last  impulsive  ebullition* had 


114  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

subsided,  to  leave  her  again  keenly  watchful  of  Mr.  Leigh, 
grew  aware  of  some  mystery  of  power  in  him  far  rarer 
than  aught  which  the  night  had  before  revealed  of  hia 
character. 

They  are,  to  begin  with,  the  very  rarest  of  beings,  for 
all  our  democracies  and  philanthropies  and  soul-saving, 
who  can  ever  meet  those  below  them  by  any  deep  social 
chasm  with  an  absolute  simplicity.  The  straits  of  mere 
physical  danger,  it  is  true,  make  all  flesh  one  ;  but  many 
a  gentleman  who  will  go  gallantly  and  nobly  into  fire  or 
flood  to  save  a^  beggar's  life  at  peril  of  his  own  is  honestly 
embarrassed,  the  moment  he  gets  him  out,  to  know  how 
to  strike  a  sufficiently  common  chord  of  feeling  with  the 
poor  man  to  enable  him  even  to  express  comfortably  to 
him  his  thanks.  There  was  no  such  difficulty  with  Keuyon 
Leigh,  for  all  thanks  to  him  were  instinctively  hushed  by 
the  perception  that  he  shrank  from  personal  praise  with 
some  self- withdrawal  that  was  even  bashful ;  so  that  one 
could  quite  imagine,  seeing  him  among  men  who  owed 
him  their  lives,  the  blushing,  excessively  diffident  boy 
that  this  hero  had  once  been. 

Probably,  by  the  way,  to  the  make-up  of  heroes  of 
the  most  genuine  kind,  there  goes,  much  oftener  than  the 
superficial  observer  would  fancy,  that  intense  sensibility 
which  is  one  of  the  roots  of  shyness.  At  all  events,  the 
present  remains  of  this  temperamental  trait  in  Kenyon 
Leigh  had  some  indescribably  winning  charm  in  a  man 
of  a  type  that  is  wont  to  have  a  certain  necessity  to 
dominate,  —  that  touch  of  the  aggressive,  egotistic,  which 
we  have  almost  come  to  expect  as  the  inevitable  alloy  in 
men  of  great  abilities,  and  positive,  passionate  convic 
tions.  Some  living  force  of  these,  only  the  more  effective 
for  his  peculiar  personal  modesty,  yet  went  with  him 
everywhere ;  and  it  was  a  significant  thing  that  a  man 


A  REVEREND    IDOL.  115 

who  made  this  supreme  impression  of  charact^c.  should 
have  been  nowhere  more  magnetic  than  among  the  most 
utterly  fallen  and  degraded  of  beings.  What  is  often 
called  the  "  magnetic"  man  is  wont  to  have  it  as  his 
prime  characteristic,  not  to  exalt,  but  to  lower,  all  stand 
ards  :  such  would-be  leader,  not  merely  of  the  degraded, 
l.'ut  of  what  are  only  termed  the  "  vulgar  "  masses  of  men. 
is  apt  to  take  their  tone,  —  to  hide  whatever  privileges 
he  has  had  of  learning  better  things  in  a  vulgarity  more 
essentially  vulgar  than  that  of  the  simple  ever  is  or  can 
be.  Of  this  demagogue  style,  as  of  every  and  all  species 
of  acting,  Kenyou  Leigh  was  incapable :  if  he  had  some 
unconscious  gift  for  hiding  his  privileges  in  the  presence 
of  the  unprivileged,  they  were  hid  in  his  lowly  sense  of 
that  eternal  mystery  which  has  made  men  so  to  differ. 
Too  far  into  that  mystery  he  looked,  not  to  see  the 
remorseless  bequeathing  of  evil,  how  much  of  all  human 
character  and  condition  comes  not  by  the  personal  doing 
or  deserving ;  how,  in  all  that  we  call  free  choice,  some 
thing  was  fatalized  ere  the  man  was  born,  — this  old,  old 
riddle,  that  every  thoughtful  mind  must  struggle  with, 
this  minister  felt  only  more  keenly  than  another. 

With  this  insight  he  looked  into  faces  like  these  of 
44 The  Rattler's"  crew;  and  there  was  a  touch  in  the 
mingled  expression  of  his  eyes,  which  would  have  re 
minded  those  who  had  known  that  rare  lad}',  of  his  dead 
mother.  It  was  a  look  which  one  sees  sometimes  in 
women  of  sweet  and  noble  natures,  who,  reared  amid 
all  opulent  refinements,  pass  through  life  with  a  kind  of 
angel's  incredulity  of  evil.  Too  pitiful  over  the  sorrows 
of  humanity  to  chide  its  sin,  all  the  crimes  of  the  world 
seem  to  them  born  of  suffering :  they  lean  out  from  the 
porches  of  their  own  sheltered  lives,  dropping,  indeed, 
a  bounty  which  has  no  winter  in  it.  In  this  heavenly 


116  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

ignorance  the  man  had  not  been  able  to  abide.  If  hia 
mother's  blood  in  him  made  him  yearn  over  the  fallen 
with  some  instinctive,  "Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their 
charge,"  he  yet  realized  that  the  source  of  every  thing 
which  is  respectable  in  the  race  has  been  in  the  power  of 
the  human  will  to  struggle,  not  only  against  the  difficulties 
without,  but  the  defects  within ;  and  the  mysterious  gift 
vhich  he  had  to  quicken  this  power  in  others  thrilled  ia 
some  incorruptible  recess,  even  hearts  like  these. 

Yes,  the  shipwrecked  men,  rising  up  one  after  PDother 
from  their  irregular  meal,  gathered  round  this  being, 
who,  flush  on  the  high  meridian  of  younger  manhood,  had 
so  perilled  his  life  for  theirs.  They  gazed  at  him  as  if 
they  were  under  a  spell ;  strange  gleams  beginning  to 
grow  in  their  dark  faces,  —  signs  of  that  struggling  aspi 
ration  towards  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  another 
which  is  the  creative  germ  .of  moral  life. 

A  girl  who,  from  a  faculty  of  her  artist  nature  for 
finding  something  interesting  in  every  thing  that  lived, 
and  the  soft  heart  which  did  not  ask  too  severely  whether 
it  lived  well  or  ill,  —  the  creature  in  hard  conditions,  — 
who  from  these  qualities,  and  the  universal  attraction  of 
her  fair  face,  had  been  wont  herself  to  have  a  peculiar 
ease  of  approach  to  the  ignorant  and  lowly,  silently  con 
trasted  the  influence  which  pleased  with  an  influence  like 
this.  The  former,  the  feminine  influence,  thought  the 
girl,  accustomed  to  please,  was  instinctively  shut  away 
by  every  order  of  man  from  every  really  serious  hour. 
So  she  interpreted  to-night  that  distance  which  was  in  the 
sailors'  manner  towards  herself,  as  compared  with  Mr. 
Leigh,  —  a  distinction  not  wholly  due  to  rhe  mighty  debt 
which  they  owed  the  lafter.  And  restrained  of  all  the 
gracious  young  service,  which,  pitying  them  for  the  dan 
gers  thoy  had  passed,  she  was  eager  to  render  to  these 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  117 

poor  men,  Monny  shrank  timidly  away,  struck  with  a 
sharper  sense  of  being  useless  and  cle  trop,  and  lost  in 
nK,(irnfuller  panderings  on  woman's  sphere  and  its  limita 
tions  than  all  the  previous  humiliations  of  the  night  had 
caused  her. 

"The  Rattler's"  crew,  indeed,  watched  both  Mrs. 
Doane's  boarders  with  marked  attention, — the  girl  who 
Looked  the  crown  of  her  sex,  as  the  man  did  of  his, — 
they  watched  them  both  with  that  pathos  of  homage 
which  one  sees  sometimes  in  the  lowly  towards  the  elect 
of  their  race ;  and  that  homage,  in  truth,  did  make  them 
draw  apart  from  the  woman,  but  nigh,  with  some  strange 
outreaching,  to  the  man. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  sympathy  very  precious  in  this 
world,  — that  of  the  being  "  who  with  all  our  faults  loves 
us  still,"  and  of  the  one  who  best  grasps  our  situation. 
The  eternal  sentiment  of  sex  has  so  put  some  hint  of  the 
former  sympathy  even  into  the  attack  made  by  the  pray 
ing  women  of  the  grog-shops  on  the  dram-drinker,  for 
instance,  that  he  takes,  half-pleased,  his  buffetings,  and 
signs  the  pledge,  partly  in  repentance  of  his  vice,  and 
partly  flattered  that  the  lady  thinks  him  so  much  worth 
the  saving.  Still  it  is  probable,  after  all,  that,  in  its 
most  genuine  hour  of  self-abasement  and  struggle,  the 
fallen  life  is  most  strongly  helped  by  the  other  kind  of 
sympathy,  —  that  of  its  own  sex,  —  a  man's  distinctive 
charity  for  another  man  being  based  on  the  fuller  view 
which  he  can  take  of  the  force  of  his  temptations. 

Certainly,  in  such  men  as  were  these  wild  sailors,  it  was' 
a  sign  of  the  absolute  contrition  which  thrilled  them  at 
present,  that  they  saw  in  the  fair  girl,  whose  refined  love 
liness  shone  like  a  star  under  the  homespun  roof,  a  being 
alien  to  them  as  the  very  stars,  before  whose  face  their 
disordered  lives  fled  away.  But  they  brought  them  back 


118  A   REVEREND   IDOL 

before  the  man,  making  some  strange,  silent  review  of 
their  dark  memories,  dimly  wondering  if  the  passions 
which  in  themselves  leaped  in  blind  brawling  and  carouse, 
only  less  dreary  at  the  last  than  the  sluggish  torpor,  the 
dead  routine  of  toil  out  of  which  the  madness  broke,  —  if 
these  forces  had  indeed  any  kinship  with  the  energies 
which  in  him  could  flame  so  in  peril,  and  breathe  such 
peace  when  it  was  past. 

Peace  did  this  man  breathe?  Oh,  Great  Hearts  of 
humanity,  walking  whatsoever  haunted  ways  between  the 
lion  and  the  pilgrims,  calm  do  their  lifted  brows  seem, 
touched  of  no  mortal  weakness  ?  Nay,  be  sure  that  unto 
them,  and  with  only  fiercer  combat  than  others  know,  hath 
somewhere  been  the  lone  fight  with  Apollyon,  striding  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  way,  fire-breathing,  roaring  hideous, 
"  Here  will  I  spill  thy  soul !  "  Yea,  life's  temptation,  its 
tedium,  albeit  in  far  other  forms,  were  known  to  Kenyon 
Leigh  as  to  these  poor  turbid  souls :  never  else,  indeed, 
had  they  drawn  to  him  with  such  yearning  inquiry. 

Kenyon  Leigh  was  not  given  to  perfunctory  exhorta 
tions  :  he  only  looked  at  the  sailors  with  his  strange,  pene 
trating  eyes  as  he  sat  among  them,  filling  out,  with  some 
little  talk  of  the  sea,  the  waiting  moments  while  the  im 
promptu  beds  for  all  this  company  were  being  prepared. 
So  they  did  not  suspect  the  clergyman  until  they  came  to 
part  for  -the  night ;  Mr.  Leigh  having  said  no  grace  at  the 
irregular  meal,  as  he  noted  how  two  or  three  of  the  sailors 
furtively  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  when  they  sat  down 
to  eat.  For  the  sake  of  these  poor  brethren  the  Protes 
tant  bread  went  unblessed  :  but  now,  when  the  mixed  com 
pany,  all  gathered  round  the  hearth-fire,  were  going  to 
their  short  sleep  as  the  dawn  was  at  hand,  the  minister 
rose  up ;  and  mindful  of  the  death  to  which  they  had  all 
been  so  nigh,  simple  as  a  child  saying  its  evening  prayer, 
he  knelt  down  with,  "  Let  us  pray." 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  119 

And  the  sailors  who  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  made  it 
now,  falling  on  their  knees  with  the  rest,  or  whatever  sign 
might  witness  to  the  power  which  made  this  man,  who 
out  of  his  robes  had  not  even  what  is  known  as  the  cleri 
cal  look,  a  priest  forever  after  an  order  higher  than  Mel- 
chUedec's.  Out  of  the  book  could  this  churchman  pray 
on  occasion  ;  though  the  soul  of  its  old  prayers,  with  their 
simple,  reverent  phrase,  was  in  his,  as  his  fervent,  impas 
sioned  voice  arose.  Haply  the  heavens  into  which  lie 
prayed  were  dim  enough  to  these  wild  beings,  most  of 
whom  were  men  who  crossed  themselves  neither  in  faith 
nor  fear ;  but  not  dim  was  their  belief  in  him  who  poured 
the  petition.  Now  that  he  saw  them  not,  their  wide-open 
eyes,  brimming  with  tears,  never  wandered  from  his  face ; 
they  swayed  towards  him  as  if  to  partake  of  his  nature : 
yea,  distinct  at  last,  the  divine  longing  dawned  in  these 
darkened  souls,  —  not  cupidity  of  heaven,  nor  terror  of 
hell,  but  the  passion  for  purity  uncompounded. 

It  was  a  picture  of  thrilling  contrast,  —  the  shining 
face  of  the  man  on  the  height  of  humanity,  the  marred, 
marred  lineaments  of  these  in  its  depths  ;  but  the  wonder, 
the  beauty  of  humility  there  :  was  it  that  he  could  so  feel 
his  brotherhood  with  them  ?  Nay,  but  that  they  could  feel 
theirs  with  him. 

Mystery  of  one  mortal  life  drawing  its  tides  through 
generations  of  honor  and  of  worth,  and  of  another  whose 
currents  flow  poisoned  from  their  spring  !  —  the  hour  when 
any  soul  of  the  latter  first  discerns  all  the  vantage-ground 
of  the  former  in  how  much  more  than  external  things,  not 
so  strange  were  its  poor  human  impulse  to  curse  God,  and 
die.  But  the  loyal  delight  which  the  most  miserable  of 
men  will  take  in  every  gift  that  crowns  some  exemplar 
uf  their  race,  —  herein  is  not  only  pathos,  but  a  seed  of 
promise  which  surely  awaits  only  nurture  for  all  fulfilment, 


120  A  KEVEREKD  IDOL. 

Monny,  gliding  in  from  the  bedroom,  where  she  had 
been  for  a  look  at  the  sleeping  baby,  paused  in  a  dim 
corner  of  the  many-angled  old  room,  spell-bound  at  sight 
of  those  streaming,  upturned  faces  ;  then  with  an  answer 
ing  quiver  in  her  own  young  heart,  that  rose  up  in  her 
sobbing  throat,  and  'sent  a  gush  of  tears  from  her  eyes, 
Blie  stole  away  again,  and  left  them  alone  with  their 
cLlirerer. 


A  BEVEEEND   IDOL.  121 


CHAPTER 


"   \  UNT  PERSIS,  do  you  suppose  men  can  do  every 
-^-  Ihing  better  than  women,  —  every  thing?"  repeated 
Monny,  with  an  emphasis  that  swept  all  mortal  doings 
from  pole  to  pole. 

It  was  the  fifth  day  since  the  wreck  of  "  The  Rattler  ;  " 
and  Mr.  Leigh  had  gone  up  to  Boston  to  put  the  captain, 
who  was  but  just  able  to  bear  the  journey,  in  the  hospital, 
the  man  having  escaped  with  his  life,  but  still  with  injuries 
so  severe  as  to  require  for  a  long  time  yet  constant  super 
vision  of  the  best  medical  skill.  With  the  captain  had 
gone  wife  and  baby,  the  replenishing  of  whose  wardrobe 
had  been  Monny's  grand  care  for  days  past;  also,  as 
the  last  of  the  crew  to  take  service  again  on  the  sea,  the 
young  Portuguese  sailor,  who  had  been  half-drowned  on 
the  night  of  the  wreck.  These  all  departing  in  care  of 
Mr.  Leigh,  the  old  house  had  settled  back  to  its  normal 
quiet  ;  and  Monny,  straying  down  to  the  porch,  and  fall 
ing  into  an  afternoon  re  very  there,  had  looked  up  out  of 
it,  and  propounded  the  above  question  to  Mrs.  Doane  as 
she  apjx,ared  in  the  open  doorway,  indulging  once  more 
in  the  leisures  of  knitting-worK. 

"Did  you  see  how  Mr.  Leigh  hushed  that  baby  the 
other  night,  when  none  of  us  could  hush  it?'*  pursued 
Monny  ;  "  and,  whatever  he  pretends  about  the  way  he 
came  by  the  rest  of  his  all-kuowingness,  he  hasn't  lived 
out  for  a  nursery-maid,"  declared  the  girl,  reaching  this 


122  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

one  solid  point  of  certainty  in  her  speculations  as  to  the 
right  of  Mr.  Leigh  to  be  so  aggrandized  with  faculties. 

44  Now,  Miss  Monny,"  replied  the  widow,  coming  out 
to  sit  on  the  stoop  as  she  waited  for  a  fresh  skein  of  yarn 
which  Susannah  was  to  bring  her  from  a  certain  bureau- 
drawer  up-stairs,  4t  'twas  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  for  that  baby  to  take  to  Mr.  Leigh.  In  the  first  place, 
living  on  shipboard,  'twas  a  great  deal  more  used  to  seeing 
men  than  women  ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  Mr.  Leigh 
brought  it  all  the  way  that  night  to  the  house  in  his  arms." 

4*  Yes,  missis,"  chimed  in  Susannah,  appearing  here  to 
Land  the  skein  of  yarn  over  Mrs.  Doane's  head,  and  add 
her  contribution  to  the  philosophy  of  life,  44  and  his  Honor 
Jud  carry  it  so  strong.  A  baby  knows  in  a  minuit  whether 
you  carry  it  strong  or  not." 

44 1  carried  it  with  all  my  might,"  protested  Monny, 
recalling  the  strained  arms  with  which  she  had  lugged  to 
and  fro  that  writhing  infant. 

44  Jess  so,  honey,  and  'pears  like  a  baby  wants  to  feel 
dat  dere's  some  might  left  over.  Seein'  dey  are  all  flyin* 
to  pieces  in  dere  little  tantrums  along  of  dere  own  nerves 
and  weakness,  a  woman's  nerves  and  weakness  kinder 
drives  'em  wilder.  Whereas,  a  man  dat  handles  'em 
strong  and  cool  and  easy  sorter  calms  'em  down,  unbe 
known  as  'twere.  La  !  women  are  poor  critters,  and  even 
a  cryin'.  baby  knows  it,"  declared  Susannah.  With  which 
voice  from  Ethiopia  going  back  on  her  sex,  Monny  was 
quite  quenched  ;  but  as  the  handmaid  vanished,  and  Mrs. 
Doane  bent  over  a  knot  in  her  skein  of  yarn,  she  mur 
mured  at  length,  as  if  thinking  aloud,  — 

44  That's  just  what  some  of  the  anti-woman's  rights 
essayists  say,  —  that  men,  whenever  they  have  a  mind  to 
try,  can  do  every  earthly  thing,  even  woman's  work,  bet 
ter  than  women  can  do  it." 


A    REVEREND   IDOL. 


"  Now,  my  child,"  replied  Mrs.  Doane  in  her  calm, 
pldcrly  fashion,  "I'm  afraid  you  read  too  much  all  that 
heap  of  books  and  magazines  you've  got  in  your  room 
this  summer  on  woman's  rights.  If  you  girls  that  are 
growing  up  nowadays  are  going  to  lay  seriously  to  heart 
all  the  stuff  that  you  see  printed  for  and  against  women, 
certain  you'll  blow  to  all  points  of  the  compass  to  once. 
There,  she  hasn't  brought  me  just  the  right  hank  of  yarn 
after  all,"  abruptly  declared  the  matron,  and  forthwith 
she  went  in  doors  in  pursuit  of  the  correct  thing. 

Monny,  remaining  still  in  the  shady  corner  of  the  porch 
where  the  vines  clustered  thickly,  was  soon  lost  again  in 
revery.  The  central  figure  of  her  meditations  was  cer 
tainly  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh,  but  she  was  by  no  means 
weaving  round  him  any  dreams  of  sentiment.  Monny 
was  much  too  great  a  stickler  for  the  "  proper  order  "  to 
be  burning  even  hidden  incense  of  tenderness  to  any  man 
unasked.  Then,  although  the  fashionable  preacher,  spoilt 
of  women,  had  dissolved  to  her  so  utterly  and  forever  as 
the  man  called  Kenyon  Leigh,  that  she  wondered  at  her 
own  distempered  fancy  in  creating  such  a  chimera  :  and 
although  the  extraordinary  figure  which  had  now  risen  on 
her  vision  in  its  place  occupied  her  thoughts  wholly  as  a 
man,  and  not  as  a  minister,  still  the  fact  of  Mr.  Leigh's 
profession  remained  in  her  consciousness  ;  and  for  Monny 
to  imagine  herself  a  minister's  wife  was  the  one  impossi 
ble  imagination  to  her. 

Miss  Rivers  then  presents  at  this  time  the  phenomenon 
of  a  young  maiden  to  whom  an  unmarried  man  has  be 
come  a  subject  of  intense  speculation,  although  he  figures 
IE  no  outermost  circle  of  her  fancy  as  her  conceivable 
lover.  That  this  was  a  possible  feminine  condition,  the 
sceptical  may  be  aided  to  believe,  if  we  admit  that  there 
might  perhaps  be  traced  in  the  coolly  abstract  exami- 


124  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

nation  which  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  was  undergoing  in 
this  young  head  some  subtle,  far-off  connection  with  what 
could  be  called  matters  of  the  heart ;  that  is,  if  the  young 
lady  thus  occupied  with  the  image  of  a  gentleman  was 
not  asking  what  he  thought  about  7ier,  she  was  very  pro 
foundly  asking  what  the  order  of  men  of  whom  Kenyon 
Leigh  was  a  type  thought  about  women, — the  personal 
question,  it  will  be  seen,  only  in  a  general  form. 

Monny's  saying  that  she  wished  to  be  approved  of  the 
serious  minds,  the  men  who  wrote  the  solid  essays  and 
reviews,  was  her  girlish  way  of  stating  the  fact  that  she 
had  come  to  have,  with  her  growing  years,  an  especial 
admiration  for  powerful  thinkers  dealing  with  what  are 
called  practical  questions.  This  taste  in  so  imaginative 
a  girl  arose  partly  perhaps  from  the  instinct  of  a  thor 
oughly  healthful  nature  to  seek  that  which  was  opposite 
to  its  own  line  of  gifts,  but  still  more  because  the  old 
Puritan  character,  renewed  with  whatsoever  strange  blos 
soming  in  this  fanciful  maiden,  was  still  there  in  great 
strength :  over  and  above  all  dreams  of  beauty,  she  in 
quired  earnestly  into  life. 

She  had,  as  we  know,  been  especially  led  of  late  to 
study  what  this  weighty  order  of  masculine  intelligences 
thought  of  the  feminine  ;  and  she  had  suffered  what  might 
be  called  a  pain  of  the  heart  from  whatever  slights  these 
admired  sons  of  wisdom  put  upon  her  sex.  And  now 
there  had  walked  into  her  immediate  knowledge  and  ob 
servation  a  very  commanding  specimen  of  ' '  the  serious 
mind  ;  "  and,  lo  !  he  came  scorning  women.  This  was  the 
aspect  under  which  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  became  a 
subject  of  such  profound  reflection  to  the  maid  sitting  on 
the  vine-covered  porch.  She  could  not  forget  that  he  had 
once  proposed  to  leave  that  house  because  a  young  lady 
was  boarding  there.  Now  that  the  coxcombry  which  she 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  125 

r""i  formerly  attributed  to  the  New- York  minister  was 
removed  as  far  from  her  idea  of  him  as  the  east  is  from 
the  west,  this  proceeding  of  his  was  simply  an  overwhelm 
ing  argument  to  prove  that  such  men  habitually  avoided 
the  frittering  atmosphere  of  women  whenever  it  was  pos 
sible. 

Weighed  down  by  these  thoughts  of  gloom,  Miss  Monny 
was  only  roused  by  the  step  of  Mrs.  Doane  again  on  the 
porch,  as  she  called  to  Susannah  in  the  yard  with  some 
remark  which  told  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  expected  by  the 
evening  train,  and  that  "  high  tea  "  must  be  prepared  for 
the  traveller.  Or  rather,  since  that  phrase  was  not  cur 
rent  with  the  Cape-Cod  woman,  her  direction  was,  that 
some  addition  of  "  hearty  vittles  "  should  be  made  to  the 
evening  meal  for  a  minister  who  was  not  addicted  to  pie. 

This  suggestion  of  Mr.  Leigh's  return  moved  Monny 
instantly  to  forsake  the  porch,  and  go  up  to  her  own 
room,  where  arraying  herself  for  a  walk,  she  departed, 
intending  that  the  minister's  arrival  should  find  her 
absent. 

Monny's  impulse  in  the  present  days  to  avoid  Mr. 
Leigh  was  as  much  more  active  than  her  former  one  had 
been,  as  a  very  decided  sense  of  embarrassment  in  an 
other's  presence  is  stronger  than  a  nonchalant  indiffer 
ence  to  it.  Being  a  well-bred  young  lady,  and  no  pert 
hoiden  by  nature,  Monny  was  quite  appalled  now  to  re 
member  her  past  style  of  demeanor  to  Mr.  Leigh;  and 
yet  some  obstinate  remnant  of  perplexity  about  him  made 
it  mysteriously  difficult  for  her  to  find  the  fitting  new 
lu-havior:  so  she  simply  slipped  out  of  his  way  to  avoid 
behaving  to  him  at  all. 

Going  down  the  lane,  seaward,  she  still  went  on,  how- 
rver,  with  her  silent  commeasuring  of  man  and  woman. 
Down  the  long  lane,  past  the  little  Ilines  house,  where 


4.26  A   KEVEEEND  IDOL. 

she  had  been  so  often  during  the  last  few  days,  out  upon 
the  sea-banks,  and  away  to  the  point  off  which  "The 
Rattler"  had  gone  to  pieces,  its  human  freight  brought 
in  by  the  mighty  daring  of  one  man,  —  to  this  place  came 
Monny ;  and  its  reminiscences  were  well  calculated  to 
confirm  her  present  depressing  idea  of  power,  force,  as 
the  only  symbols  of  high  human  worth. 

These  same  qualities  in  their  purer  spiritual  manifesta 
tion,  —  had  she  not  felt  them  to  be  the  root  of  that  mys 
terious  influence  so  unconsciously  exerted  by  Mr.  Leigh 
over  the  souls  of  those  debased  men  whose  bodies  h^  had 
plucked  out  of  the  deep  ?  Monny  could  see  their  wild 
faces  now  uplifted  to  his  around  that  hearth-fire ;  and 
she  was  undoubtedly  right  in  her  feeling  that  not  easy 
going  toleration  of  the  worst  that  is  in  him,  but  stimulus 
of  the  best,  is,  finally  and  at  the  last,  what  the  lowest 
human  being  really  longs  for,  as  well  as  needs. 

All  the  everlasting  old  saws  that  she  had  heard  about 
the  supreme  moral  influence  of  women  snapped  in  utter 
brittleness  to  the  girl  in  her  present  train  of  thought :  the 
world  seemed  to  her  all  a  man's  world,  in  the  stress  and 
strain  of  whose  real  issues  women  had  no  part.  This 
minister  who  could  so  bow  himself  to  the  refuse  of  New- 
Orleans  wharves  was  the  same  man  who  had  been  bored 
at  the  idea  of  a  young  lady  under  the  roof  where  he  was 
to  pass  a  few  summer  weeks.  Was  it  merely  the  "young 
lady ' '  division  of  the  female  sex  that  he  had  such  a  dis 
gust  for?  queried  the  girl;  and  she  had  an  odd  thought 
that  she  would  like  to  have  seen  how  he  would  pray  for 
women  of  the  same  class  as  were  those  sailors.  Then 
this  fancy  was  blotted  by  a  peculiarly  disturbing  cloud,  — 
a  thought  of  all  the  nonsense  mixed  up  with  the  devotion 
of  women  to  ministers ;  and  with  a  sense  that  this  was 
a  most  besnarled  creation  for  her  sex,  Monny  climbed 


A  ni:vi:m:xD  IDOL.  127 

down  one  of  the  hollows  of  the  bank  to  the  beach  below, 
wlu1  re  she  roamed  till  the  sun  fell  low  over  the  sea,  and  she 
heard  the  railway  whistle  blown  at  the  station  of  the  little 
village,  and  anon  the  train  rolling  past  her  as  it  threaded  ita 
narrow  way  down  to  the  end  of  the  Cape. 

The  passenger  expected  by  Mrs.  Doane  had  duly 
alighted  at  the  station,  but  had  disappointed  the  stage- 
driver  there  by  deciding  to  walk  to  his  boarding-place, 
and  even  to  carry  his  baggage ;  that  is,  a  bulky  brown 
paper  parcel  which  he  had  with  him,  quite  cumbersome 
enough  to  be  called  by  that  name.  Swinging  this  load  in 
his  hand,  he  set  out  on  his  walk  home,  proceeding  by  the 
extremely  roundabout  way  of  striking  first  for  the  seashore. 
With  his  rapid  step,  he  was  soon  beyond  the  little  village, 
and  traversing  the  thickets  of  bay  and  boxberry,  and  all 
the  unfenced  wild  that  he  had  come  to  know  so  well,  and 
which  apparently  he  was  very  glad  to  be  returned  to. 
Still  it  might  not  be  safe  to  assume  that  any  thing  more 
than  a  merely  general  sense  of  satisfaction  made  the  elas 
ticity  of  his  step,  the  light  of  the  clear  glances  which 
swept  the  lonely  barrens  and  the  sea :  he  certainly  did 
not  look  like  a  being  dependent  on  any  particular  thing, 
still  less  on  any  one  creature,  for  his  joy.  No,  as  he 
walked  with  his  brisk,  strong  tread,  and  that  indefinable 
port  of  the  man  unsubdued  to  the  domestic  yoke,  it 
seemed  a  little  singular  that  women  should  ever  have 
wasted  their  hearts  on  one  whose  whole  air  so  suggested, 
in  defiance  of  Genesis,  that  man  was  created  to  be  alono. 
and  that  he  found  it  extremely  good. 

Still  he  had,  as  we  know,  very  active  ties  of  a  certain 
sort  to  his  fellow-creatures,  and  the  complications  which 
had  arisen  from  his  endeavor  to  do  his  duty  by  one  of 
th  ^se  was  the  occasion  of  his  present  little  ramble.  Yes, 
as  he  approached  the  shore,  his  way  of  glancing  about 


128  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

him  in  mere  pleasure  at  the  prospect  changed  to  the 
definite  expression  of  a  man  surveying  the  landscape  in 
search  of  some  one.  The  minister's  eyes  were  very 
keen  and  bright,  and  could  pierce  afar ;  moreover,  this 
coast  was  so  bare,  one  could  look  along  it  for  miles  and  see 
any  creature  astir  on  it,  unless  it  might  be  hidden  by  one 
of  the  hollows  of  the  bank :  so,  having  explored  certain 
of  these,  he  descended  at  once  to  the  beach  below.  Ho 
had  scarcely  reached  this  level  when  he  discerned  at  a 
distance  a  feminine  form  sitting  motionless  on  a  pile  of 
driftwood,  not  far  from  the  sea-line,  with  a  dog  taking 
short  runs  along  the  water's  edge,  as  a  clog  might  who 
was  making  an  occasional  jocular  snap  at  a  beach  bird  to 
relieve  the  dulness  in  which  the  grave  mood  of  his  mistress 
left  him. 

The  minister,  at  sight  of  these  figures,  made  the  mo 
mentary  pleased  start  of  a  man  who  has  found  what  he  is 
looking  for ;  but  the  next  moment  he  somewhat  slackened 
his  rapid  pace,  while,  for  the  first  time  during  his  walk,  a 
shade  of  embarrassment  crossed  his  face.  Monny  and 
her  dog  in  this  place  vividly  recalled  to  him  that  morning 
of  his  first  introduction  to  the  pair  frolicking  by  the  waves  ; 
and  he  remembered  just  now  all  the  fate  which  he  had 
had  to  affront  the  young  lady  from  the  beginning.  He 
concluded  that  she  felt  very  severely  affronted  with  him 
in  his  taking  away  of  her  Popish  books.  That  incident 
had  occurred,  it  will  be  remembered,  on  the  same  day  as 
the  wreck ;  and  he  had  been  well  aware,  that,  in  the  time 
which  had  elapsed  between  that  day  and  his  going  *jp 
to  Boston,  Miss  Monny  had  behaved  to  him  with  an 
entirely  new  reserve,  a  grave  distance  and  silence,  which 
he  found  an  extremely  unsatisfying  change  from  the  en 
livening  doses  of  derision  to  which  she  had  been  wont  to 
treat  him.  So,  in  a  hope  to  dispel  the  memory  of  the 


A  REVEBEXD   IDOL.  129 

proceeding  whose  causes  he  could  not  explain  to  the 
maiden,  he  had  bought  for  her  in  Boston  the  budget  of 
literature  which  he  had  now  on  his  arm.  A  budget  it 
was :  first,  he  had  laid  in  a  stock  of  such  saints  as 
1"  rancis  de  Sales,  Thomas  a  Kempis,  etc.  ;  then,  because 
all  this  type  of  spirituality  lacked  something  to  his  own 
robust  mind,  he  added  Marcus  Aurelius,  superadding 
thereto  a  volume  of  Matthew  Arnold's  essays,  in  a  dim 
notion  that  this  writer's  study  of  the  stoic  philosopher 
might  a  little  break  him  to  Mouny's  reading.  His  faith 
was  probably  very  dim  that  she  would  really  read  any  of 
these  books  at  all :  still  certain  other  moralists  of  attractive 
literary  style  went  into  the  pack.  Then,  as  a  sweetener  to 
all  this  seriousness,  a  handful  of  comfits,  which  might 
really  be  to  the  girl's  taste,  he  added  some  of  the  latest 
English  and  American  novels  (quite  unread  by  himself), 
and  some  volumes  of  poetry,  gotten  up  with  extreme  rich 
ness  of  binding  and  illustrations. 

It  had  seemed  to  him  highly  natural  in  Boston  to  make 
up  this  parcel  to  propitiate  the  pretty  creature  at  his 
Cape-Cod  boarding-place,  whose  last  phase  of  wrath 
towards  him  had  left  him  so  dull  and  forlorn.  Equally 
natural  he  thought  it,  when  he  alighted  at  the  station,  to 
go  in  search  of  her  in  her  favorite  haunts  at  this  hour, 
ani  to  take  the  books  along  with  him  for  presentation  on 
the  spot ;  uui  u  -w,  when  he  was  fairly  in  sight  of  the 
maiden,  he  sud(Viuy  woke  up  to  the  perception  that  he 
had  been  a  gret.t  bungler  in  all  his  management  about 
those  ill  books  from  the  beginning. 

He  realized  this  still  more  forcibly  when  Monny,  moved 
by  the  watchful  attitude  of  her  dog,  as  he  suddenly 
descried  the  minister  in  the  distance,  to  glance  herself 
along  the  shore,  rose  instantly  upon  that  glance,  and 
n>-*ved  swiftly  away,  vanishing  with  Duke  George  by  the 


130  A  EEVEEEND  IDOL. 

first  opening  which  allowed  one  to  reach  the  bank  from 
the  beach  below.  The  gentleman  and  the  young  lady 
were  too  far  apart  for  the  ceremony  of  exchanging  bows  ; 
but  Mr.  Leigh  felt  that  he  had  beeii  perfectly  recognized, 
and  that  this  sudden  flight  of  his  fellow-boarder  was  the 
cut  direct.  Naturally,  on  this  reception,  he  lingered 
about  the  beach  for  a  while,  to  allow  the  feminine  rambler 
undisturbed  freedom  of  the  bank :  so  Mrs.  Doane's  high 
tea  was  decidedly  waiting  when  the  returned  traveller  at 
last  sat  down  to  it.  Miss  Rivers  was  in  the  house,  — the 
presence  of  Duke  George  announced  that  fact,  —  but  she 
was  nowhere  visible  ;  and  not  greatly  ministering  on  this 
occasion  to  that  secret  satisfaction  with  which  women, 
especially  when  they  have  themselves  spread  the  board, 
behold  a  good  masculine  appetite,  Mr.  Leigh  soon  left  his 
landlady  alone  at  the  table,  and  went  to  his  own  rooms. 

There,  however,  with  the  usual  male  instinct  to  settle 
up  somehow  an  affair  that  is  hanging  at  loose  ends,  he 
opened  the  old-fashioned  little  dark  cupboard  in  the  wall, 
where  Monny's  Holy  Fathers  were  in  hiding,  not  with 
the  slightest  intent  of  returning  them,  —  he  was  never 
further  from  that  idea,  —  but  merely  to  count  out,  saint 
for  saint,  from  the  lavish  pile  which  he  had  bought  for 
Miss  Monny.  the  precise  tale  of  books  which  he  had  taken 
from  her.  1  hese  were  not  many ;  but  judging,  that,  in 
the  young  lady's  present  mood  towards  him,  gifts  from 
his  hand  would  not  be  acceptable,  he  despatched  this 
exact  equivalent  of  books,  and  no  more,  to  her  room  by 
Susannah,  with  no  explanations  whatever.  Then,  having 
shoved  into  the  darkest  corner  of  the  Puritan  dark  closet 
the  saints  in  their  indecency,  he  flung  in  after  them 
Marcus  Aurelius,  Matthew  Arnold,  novels,  and  editions 
de  luxe  of  poetry,  pell-mell.  But  as  the  novels  were 
extremely  stupid,  and  the  elegantly  bound  poetries  decid- 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  131 

edly  too  elegant  not  to  have  been  an  embarrassing  gift 
for  Monny  to  receive  at  this  time  from  Mr.  Leigh,  and 
as  she  hud  not  only  read  Marcus  Aurclius,  but  had  been 
first  led  to  read  him  through  that  identical  volume  of 
''Essays  in  Criticism"  by  Matthew  Arnold,  which  she 
had  devoured  every  line  of,  —  in  view  of  these  things, 
she  was  not  in  a  way  to  suffer  at  present  for  want  of  any 
thing  that  the  dark  closet  contained. 

She  was  consciously  suffering,  however,  when  Susannah 
came  in  on  the  above-mentioned  errand  in  behalf  of  Mr. 
Leigh,  from  the  memory  of  her  rudeness  in  running  away 
from  that  gentleman  down  at  the  seashore.  She  had  not 
the  least  idea  that  he  came  that  way  expressly  to  seek 
her,  —  the  cars  always  gave  her  a  headachy  longing  her 
self  for  a  ramble  in  the  fresh  air,  —  but  she  felt  the 
incivility  of  not  having  staid  to  greet  him  after  his  ab 
sence.  She  did  not  know  what  mysterious  nervousness 
had  put  wings  to  her  feet  at  the  very  sight  of  him.  She 
could  only  hope  that  he  had  not  perceived  her,  at  least 
that  he  had  not  perceived  that  she  perceived  him  ;  and 
she  would  not  appear  at  the  tea-table,  lest  her  conscious 
face  should  betray  the  fact  that  she  had  seen  him  before. 

Either  because  she  was  so  pre-occupied  with  this  mat 
ter,  or  because  the  vast  depths  of  Mr.  Leigh's  domineer 
ing  made  an  abyss  that  she  had  given  up  all  attempt  to 
fathom,  Susannah's  entrance  presently  with  the  substi 
tuted  books  made  scarcely  more  than  a  passing  ripple  ia 
htjr  tbsughte. 


132  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  very  old  truth,  that  we  only  know  the  value 
of  things  by  losing  them,  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh 
proved,  with  much  astonishment  to  himself,  in  the  days 
that  now  followed,  when  he  found  that  the  vanishing  of 
that  disrespectful  nymph  whom  he  had  known  as  Miss 
Monny  Rivers  from  his  daily  ways  took  therefrom  some 
brightness,  which  he  missed  as  if  it  had  become  a  neces 
sary  ray  to  his  life.  The  maiden  was  still  under  the 
roof,  but  she  might  almost  as  well  have  been  at  the  anti 
podes.  Her  former  reticence  was  of  a  kind  that  the 
minister  could  amuse  himself  by  trespassing  on.  To 
pause  when  he  saw  that  airy  approaching  figure,  and 
waylay  it  with  some  of  those  ' '  perfectly  needless  and 
uncommonly  stupid ' '  questions  with  which  he  evoked  its 
frosty,  keen  morsels,  its  sudden  impatient  flashes  of  reply, 
—  how  often  Mr.  Leigh  had  indulged  in  this  recreation, 
and  how  valuable  a  recreation  it  was  to  him,  he  was  not 
in  the  least  aware  till  all  its  opportunities  were  ended. 
The  manner,  by  the  way,  in  which  the  minister  had  taken 
this  diversion,  it  was  not  wholly  strange  that  Monny 
should  have  construed  as  "  lordly."  Extreme  simplicity 
of  character  and  the  sovereign  extreme  of  pride  have 
this  in  common,  that  both  are  unperturbed  by  anxiety  to 
please.  Solicitude  as  to  the  sort  of  figure  which  he  him 
self  was  making  in  the  eyes  of  others  was,  in  general, 
peculiarly  absent  from  Kenyon  Leigh ;  but  of  late,  with 
reference  to  one  young  mortal,  the  personal  question , 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  133 

AYhat  she  thought  about  him?  had  begun  to  deflect  thi? 
hitherto  single-minded  character. 

He  did  not  wish  to  make  too  unpleasant  a  figure  in 
Mi  33  Monny's  eyes:  he  had  a  mysterious  longing  for  her 
to  fly  in  his  face  again,  and  yet  an  unwillingness  that  she 
should  take  that  obnoxious  view  of  him  which  made  her 
fly  in  his  face.  In  this  paradoxical  state  of  mind  the  man 
was  as  newly  scrupulous  not  to  intrude  on  the  maiden's 
reserve  as  she  was  newly  vigilant  in  guarding  it.  Mean 
while,  across  this  double  gulf  of  distance  her  image  came 
to  haunt  with  extraordinary  persistency  his  thoughts.  Of 
course  he  had  to  think  about  his  fellow-boarder  some 
what,  —  to  think  how  he  should  make  up  with  her.  He 
must  watch  a  good  deal  her  goings-out  and  comings-in 
to  see  if  he  could  anywhere  seize  a  favorable  opportunity 
to  say  or  do  something  amiable,  merely  to  show  himself 
in  a  kind  of  human  light  to  a  young  creature  whom  any 
one  would  be  sorry  to  have  seriously  vexed  and  offended. 
With  these  duteous  cares,  he  slid  into  much  thinking 
about  .Miss  Monny,  which  could  only  be  referred  to  a 
charm  for  his  thoughts  in  the  subject  itself.  A  very  idle 
charm  he  would  have  confessed.  His  judgment,  which 
still  kept  its  cool,  parallel  line  beside  the  path  of  his 
imagination  on  this  theme,  smiled  at  the  preposterousness 
of  the  fancy  which  invested,  for  instance,  such  questions 
as  "AVhere  did  you  learn  to  do  chicken-stews?"  with 
s  >me  character  which  made  the  vivid  moment  when  the 
girl  had  flown  at  him  with  that  mighty  demand  recur 
again  and  again  to  his  memory.  Her  mingled  air  that 
night  of  a  mutinous  child  and  a  solemnly  earnest  woman, 
—  it  was  a  part  of  the  same  glamour  that  was  always 
ibout  her,  the  suggestion,  the  hinted  depths  which  made 
her  mere  silent  figure,  pacing  in  the  sunset  along  the  or 
chard  line,  a  picture,  which,  to  tell  the  truth,  the  minister 


134  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

had  formed  a  habit  of  keeping  his  western  window-blinds 
always  closed,  their  slats  turned  cunningly  downward, 
expressly  to  survey  unseen. 

It  was  the  very  newest  ambuscading  under  the  sun  for 
the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh.  Pink  beauties  and  pale  ones, 
blondes  and  brunettes,  and  all  the  shades  between,  had 
this  minister,  whose  ways  had  been  so  full  of  fair  wom.-n, 
oeheld,  with  eyes  by  no  means  blind  to  their  beauty. 
He  had  seen  them  as  the  flowers  of  the  field ;  nor  more 
than  the  flowers  of  the  field  did  they  take  tribute  of  *his 
thoughts  in  hours  of  work  and  study.  But  this  dreaming 
girl  under  the  apple-trees,  revolving,  Heaven  knew  what 
follies  in  her  half-drooped  head,  —  that  was  the  minister's 
sober  idea  of  her,  — all  the  same,  it  had  been  a  mysteri 
ous  refreshing  to  him  to  lift  his  eyes,  as  he  sat  writing  in 
the  languid  close  of  the  day,  and  see  her  there ;  and  he 
missed  her  now  that  she  came  no  more.  For  Monny 
took  her  little  airings  no  longer  in  the  western  yard. 
Not  that  she  had  ever  discovered  her  observer  behind 
the  guarding  blind ;  but  she  had  grown  conscious  of 
the  very  side  of  the  house  where  abode  the  man  whose 
existence  she  had  formerly  forgotten,  save  when  he 
insisted  upon  thrusting  on  her  the  importunate  fact. 
All  her  daily  routine  of  life,  indeed,  in  the  old  house, 
was  broken  up.  The  first  thing  she  had  done,  when 
the  Samaritan  labors  incident  on  the  shipwreck  were 
ended,  was  to  march  into  Mrs.  Doane's  kitchen,  there 
to  make  most  thorough-going,  experimental  study  of 
the  whole  science  of  cookery.  We  may  remark  here, 
that,  as  any  full-grown  girl  of  intelligence  may  do,  Monny 
became  mistress  of  this  art  in  a  very  few  days,  in  all  its 
ordinary  branches.  And  as  to  ascend  from  these  to  every 
flourish  of  the  extraordinary  requires  only  the  ability  to 
read  cook-books,  which  instructive  works  are  usually  writ- 


A   REVEREN7D   IDOL.  135 

ten  in  quite  elementary  phrase,  it  appears  that  the  future 
households  of  this  nation  are  not  necessarily  doomed  to 
starvation,  because  Miss  Rivers's  former  night  of  domestic 
ignorance  may  perhaps  be  paralleled  in  this  school-going 
generation  among  many  American  girls  who  will  need 
personally  to  mix  the  family  bread  in  all  their  after-lives. 
There  is,  doubtless,  a  kind  of  education  which  spoils  the 
housewife :  nevertheless,  this  young  lady  turned  out  very 
superior  bread  on  her  second  baking,  simply  because,  in 
one  way  and  another,  she  had  attained  to  a  culture  which 
gave  force  to  her  brains,  and  a  sufficient  respect  for  every 
necessary  task  to  do  it  with  her  brains.  She  was  so 
cultivated  a  being  as  to  have  learned  that  luck  cannot  be 

O 

counted  on  in  this  world  to  bring  any  thing  right,  and 
that,  as  a  rule,  it  can  be  counted  on  to  bring  every  thing 
wrong.  Thus,  while  Mistress  Doane,  who  would  have 
pronounced  at  first  that  her  beloved  Miss  Monny  was  too 
brilliant  a  genius  ever  to  make  a  good  cook,  concluded 
next  that  this  same  genius  enabled  her  to  do  whatever  she 
chose,  as  by  inspiration,  all  the  genius  there  was  in  the 
swift  progress  made  by  her  young  apprentice  consisted 
in  the  unerring  accuracy  and  skill  with  which  she  seized 
and  followed  her  instructions.  To  do  things  by  brilliant 
guessing  and  fitful  dashes  was  a  kind  of  inspiration  that 
Monny  had  learned  long  ago  to  trample  under  foot  in  all 
serious  work ;  and  the  preparing  of  human  food,  she 
rightly  considered,  since  her  memorable  experiences  on 
uhe  night  of  the  shipwreck,  to  be  very  serious  work,  and 
:i  knowledge  that  she  would  never  more  be  ignorant  of. 
But,  as  she  had  been  accustomed  to  do  serious  work 
which  required  infinitely  more  severe  concentration  than 
tl.^se  arts  of  the  kitchen,  she  mastered  them,  ns  we  have 
said,  in  brief  space  :  ami  having  gotten  up  on  her  sole  re 
sponsibility  several  dinners  of  some  elaborateness  for  the 


136  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

family  household,  and  bestowed  broths,  bread,  and  cakes 
of  her  own  making,  on  all  the  sick  and  poor  that  she 
could  find  in  the  neighborhood,  she  rested  on  her  laurels 
as  cook,  and  being  already,  as  we  know,  a  good  dress 
maker,  looked  round  for  more  worlds  to  conquer.  Not 
being  a  fool,  she  did  not  suppose  that  there  was  any 
inherent  virtue  in  cooking  and  sewing  when  the  circum 
stances  of  her  position  did  not  require  it,  even  as  this 
same  fact  of  her  not  being  a  fool  would  have  prevented 
her  from  despising  or  slighting  these  tasks  if  they  had 
been  necessary. 

So  Monny  was  again  pondering  the  question  of  woman's 
business  in  this  world  with  some  troubled  inquiry,  which 
prevented  her  from  returning,  with  any  sustained  power 
of  work,  to  her  easel. 

One  afternoon  of  these  perplexed  days,  she  was  stray 
ing  on  the  shore,  nearly  two  miles  from  Mrs.  Doane's, 
where,  the  high  sea-bank  sloping  away,  there  was  a  long 
Hne  of  salt-works,  mostly  abandoned,  however,  and  not 
far  away  somewhat  of  a  pier,  where  boats  ran  in  from 
the  mackerel-schooners  belonging  to  the  little  village. 
Two  or  three  children  of  the  latter,  whom  Monny  had 
had  in  her  studio  at  various  times,  left  their  play  among 
the  salt-works  as  the  young  lady  came  along,  and  ran  to 
loin  her.  A  pleasure-yacht,  whose  manoeuvres  Monny  had 
idly  noted  during  her  walk,  was  making  now  directly  foi 
the  shore  ;  and,  to  please  her  juvenile  escort,  she  went 
down  to  the  pier  to  see  the  gay  craft  a  little  nearer. 

She  was  turning  away,  however,  as  its  boat,  containing 
two  or  three  young  men,  came  with  rapid  strokes  towards 
the  landing,  when,  one  of  its  occupants  rising  up  and 
waving  her  a  salute,  she  recognized  Mr.  Halstone  Roose 
velt,  a  young  New-Yorker  of  her  summer  acquaintance, 
and  paused  where  she  was. 


A    KI:VI:KKM>    IDOL.  137 

The  party  were  soon  on  the  pier;  Monny's  admirci, 
for  this  was  another  beau  in  search  of  the  exiled  belle, 
presenting  his  two  comrades,  whom  she  met  now  for  the 
first  time.  All  these  young  men,  very  graceful  specimens 
of  the  jeunesse  doree  of  America,  bowing  with  empresse- 
ment  round  this  rose  in  the  wilderness,  gave  the  dejected 
rose  at  the  moment,  perhaps,  a  pleased  sense  as  of  Ler 
little  court  come  back  again  ;  or  it  may  be  the  girl's  nat- 
unil  gayety  bubbled  with  re-actionary  fulness  just  because 
of  its  melancholy  suppression  of  late.  At  all  events, 
Monny  had  a  sudden  accession  of  high  spirits,  sparkled 
with  more  than  her  wonted  brilliancy  :  the  amateur  sailors 
had  their  adventures  to  relate,  of  course,  and  the  maiden's 
laugh  rang  out  with  its  old  joyous  sweetness. 

Another  man,  approaching  unseen  behind  the  line  of 
mined  saltworks,  caught  that  merry  echo  with  a  start  of 
glad  surprise :  it  was  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh.  It  was 
his  first  intimation  of  Monny's  neighborhood  :  her  usual 
walks  were  to  less  frequented  places  than  this  ;  and,  com 
ing  himself  directly  from  the  village,  he  had  nowhere 
seen  her  on  her  ramble.  Feeling  deterred  in  these  days 
from  seeking  to  meet  his  fellow-boarder  anywhere  when 
she  was  really  alone,  here,  where  she  was  amusing  her 
self,  as  he  supi>osed,  with  the  fishermen  and  their  children, 
and  in  her  old  lightsome  mood  again,  was  a  favorable 
place  and  moment  to  thaw  reserves ;  and,  with  highly 
sociable  intentions,  the  minister  stepped  on  to  join  himself 
to  the  company.  A  pace  or  two  farther,  however,  as  a 
<r:ip  iii  the  projecting  timbers  gave  him  a  glance  at  the 
company,  he  stood  still  with  a  rush  of  most  extraordinary 
sensations. 

Those  handsome  young  yachtsmen,  gotten  up  with  the 
last  refinement  of  amateur  nautical  costumrs,  cvrl:iiuly 
made  a  very  effective  and  pleasing  group  in  their  pictur- 


138  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

esque  flannels  round  the  delicately  robed  maiden.  They 
were  thorough-bred  youths,  and  were  paying  her  theii 
devoirs  with  every  respect.  What  insane  impulse  had 
the  Rev.  Kenj^on  Leigh  to  take  them  up  by  their  dandy 
vaistbands,  and  sling  them  into  the  sea !  Especially 
savage  was  this  impulse,  and  particularly  unjust,  towan  s 
Mr.  Halstone  Roosevelt ;  for  his  demeanor  to  Miss  Rivers 
was  of  the  most  reverential :  he  spoke  least  of  the  three  ; 
lie  was  the  lover  among  the  admirers.  Moreover,  the 
minister,  instead  of  scowling  at  that  young  man  from 
behind  some  old  vats  of  saltworks,  was  bound  in  common 
courtesy  to  go  forward  and  shake  hands  with  him  as  one 
of  his  own  parish  of  St.  Ancient's,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  a  twelvemonth :  yea,  the  youth,  whom  Mr.  Leigh  had 
doubtless  heard  in  his  catechism,  was  not  so  changed  in  a 
year  that  his  minister  did  not  recognize  him  at  a  glance. 

We  hope  it  will  be  remembered  that  the  latter  was 
on  his  vacation,  when  we  confess,  that,  if  he  had  spoken 
out  his  sentiments  towards  that  silent  admirer,  their  very 
mildest  utterance  would  have  been,  "Confound  his  im 
pudence!"  and  that  there  rose  before  him  as  the  most 
intolerable  of  mortal  visions  Monny  walking  into  his  own 
church  in  New  York  as  Mrs.  Halstone  Roosevelt. 

These  emotions  swept  the  minister's  soul  one  aston 
ished  moment ;  then,  looking  on  that  gay  young  group,  he 
felt  suddenly  old,  and  stricken  in  years.  Turning  sharply 
on  his  heel,  he  walked  away  through  the  soft  sand  as 
unnoticed  as  he  had  come. 

The  hour  when  a  strong  spirit  in  its  maturity,  a  nature 
that  has  come  almost  to  hate  the  conduct  that  is  not 
founded  on  reason,  finds  itself  seized  with  an  infatua 
tion,  an  impulse  which  it  acknowledges  to  itself  to  be 
the  starkest  'oily,  is  a  strange  one.  Kenyon  Leigh  had 
lived  through  no  such  moments  in  his  existence  ao  these 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  139 

moments  wherein  he  walked  l>aek  by  the  wild  sea  to  the 
solitude  of  his  own  room.  Arrived  there,  he  went  straight 
to  his  writing-table.  He  took  up  a  pen  :  the  name  which 
he  was  about  to  write  was  that  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 
With  his  habits  about  corresponding  with  women,  to  begin 
a  correspondence  with  that  lady  was  to  begin  marriage- 
proposals  to  her  :  indeed,  such  was  his  intent.  He  dipped 
the  pen  in  ink,  poised  it,  threw  it  down  with  a  great  revul 
sion  which  ended  for  ever  and  ever  all  thought  of  that 
marriage.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  now  distinctly 
said  to  himself  that  he  should  never  marry ;  for  he  knew 
that  there  was  but  one  wife  in  the  world  that  he  wanted, 
but  one  of  all  Eve's  daughters  that  he  had  ever  wanted, 
—  a  girl  who  put  her  soul  to  the  fashions,  who  had  seldom 
said  any  thing  to  him  but  the  giddiest  impertinences,  who 
had  a  manifest  personal  aversion  to  him  which  he  had 
wasted  an  unconscionable  amount  of  time  lately  in  think 
ing  how  to  dispel.  All  this  madness  —  and  the  mere 
sense  of  wasted  time,  to  men  who  have  disciplined  them 
selves  to  make  the  most  of  the  hours,  is  wont  to  be  a 
very  sharp  awakener  —  the  awakened  minister  reviewed. 
When,  where,  and  how  had  the  lunacy  come  upon  him? 

If  it  had  come  through  avenues  of  the  heart's  own 
wisdom  :  if  some  kindred  thrill  of  a  spirit  fearless,  resist 
ant  as  his  own  of  shams  and  impositions,  had  made  the 
girl's  impertinence  to  him  a  fascinating  impertinence  ;  if, 
through  all  the  disguise  wrought  by  the  untoward  circum 
stances  of  their  first  introduction,  some  hint  of  her  leal 
self  had  yet  penetrated,  —  these  intimations  were  subtle, 
intangible,  and  the  man  strove  against  them  at  present 
as  the  very  crown  of  his  delusion.  He  had  seen  with 
marvelling  other  men  under  such  hallucination  about  some 
utterly  commonplace  pretty  woman  ;  and  he  had  seen  the 
hallucination  end  —  with  a  very  few  months  of  marriage. 


140  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

Yes,  he  had  lived  long  enough  to  see  that  over  and 
over. 

Kenyon  Leigh  was  no  cynic :  he  was  only  a  man  in 
whom  a  judicial  habit  of  mind  co-existed  in  an  extraordi 
nary  degree  with  a  hiddenly  fervid  and  impetuous  heart. 
Unswamped  by  whatever  emotions  swept  the  latter,  it  was 
the  instinct  of  his  brain  to  take  calm  note  of  facts,  look 
at  things  in  the  light  of  the  evidence,  distrust  all  impres 
sions  which  these  did  not  sustain.  There  were  certainly 
no  facts,  no  external  evidence,  of  any  such  qualities  m 
this  girl  as  would  justify  the  extraordinary  spell  which 
she  had  laid  upon  his  fancy ;  and  he  roused  himself  to 
break  it.  Under  the  impulse  of  this  resolution  he  made  a 
sudden  move  to  the  western  window,  and  flung  wide  those 
masking  blinds  behind  which  he  had  so  often  watched 
for  a  fairer  vision  than  the  sunset.  The  sunset  streamed 
goldenly  into  the  chamber  from  which  its  rays  had  been 
so  long  debarred  ;  and  lo !  not  under  the  apple-trees,  but 
approaching  along  the  road,  was  seen  at  the  moment  that 
other  vision,  —  Miss  Rivers.  Not  escorted  by  the  yachts 
men,  —  those  gallants  were  nowhere  in  view,  —  the  maiden 
was  riding  aloft  in  the  chariot  of  that  ancient  mariner, 
Isry-Chris.  Aunt  Isry,  along  with  a  variety  of  other 
bundles,  was  likewise  stowed  in  the  cart.  The  pair  had 
evidently  been  on  one  of  their  marketing  trips  to  the 
village  store,  and  Monny  had  somewhere  forsaken  her 
admirers  to  ride  home  with  them.  The  equipage  came  on 
to  Mrs.  Doane's  door,  where  uncle  Chris  began  to  clamber 
out ;  but  Monny,  setting  her  light  foot  on  the  wide  tire  of 
the  Cape-Cod  wheel,  sprang  to  the  ground  before  him, 
and  ran  into  the  house. 

It  seemed  that  she  was  going  home  at  once  with  the 
Isry-Chrisses  to  make  one  of  her  visits  at  their  cottage 
across  the  Cape. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  141 

There  were  a  few  moments  of  echoing  bustle  in  Monny's 
rooms,  then  the  sound  of  the  light  feet  flying  down  the 
stairs,  of  Mrs.  Doane's  voice  bestowing  the  usual  motherly 
injunctions  on  her  young  boarder  about  taking  care  of  her 
self  ;  there  was  the  noise  of  Duke  George  howling  his 
grief  and  wrath  as  Susannah  chained  him  up  to  prevent 
him  from  following  his  beloved  young  mistress ;  then, 
with  its  strangely  assorted  company,  the  cart  rolled  away. 
And  to  the  boarder  left  in  the  western  chambers  silence 
AS  of  the  grave  seemed  to  fall  on  the  house. 


142  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER    X. 

MONNY'S  present  visit  to  the  other  side  of  the  Cape 
had  been  wholly  un thought  of  until  the  arrival  of 
u  The  Golden  Fleece  ;  "  for  by  this  classic  name  was  chris 
tened  the  yacht  owned  by  Mr.  Roosevelt,  and  which  had 
touched  at  Lonewater  solely  because  Miss  Rivers  was  stay 
ing  there.  The  party  was  bound  for  the  coast  of  Maine, 
and  farther  north ;  but  Cape  Cod  was  not  so  worn  out 
a  region  to  summer  idlers  from  New  York,  that  a  young 
man  of  ingenious  fancy  could  not  find  very  plausible 
reasons  for  stopping  a  few  days  to  explore  it  more  nearly 
than  from  the  deck  of  a  vessel.  In  fact,  as  Monny  walked 
slowly  up  from  the  pier,  with  her  gallant  convoy,  towards 
the  little  village  and  Capt.  Gawthrop's  house,  to  which 
she  could  do  no  less  than  show  the  way,  she  could  but 
perceive  that  she  was  likely  to  see  much  of  the  devoted 
young  Halstone,  if  his  yacht  made  the  proposed  stay  at 
Lonewater. 

Apparently  the  pleasure  which  it  had  been  to  her  to  see 
a  little  of  him  did  not  hold  out  to  the  requirements  of 
seeing  him  too  much ;  for  having  consigned  the  young 
men  to  Capt.  Gawthrop,  who  met  the  party  on  the  way, 
scenting  possible  boarders  from  afar,  and  availed  herself 
of  the  very  opportune  passing  of  uncle  Isry's  wagon  to 
return  to  Mrs.  Doane's,  she  had  scarcely  ridden  away 
with  the  old  pair  when  she  resolved  on  taking  flight  forth 
with  to  their  cottage.  She  had  left  Caot.  Gawthrop  set 
ting  forth  such  inducements  to  the  yachtsmen  in  the  waj 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  143 

of  excursions  in  the  neighborhood,  that  she  doubted  not 
4fc  The  Golden  Fleece  "  was  anchored  for  the  ensuing  days  ; 
but  as,  when  she  made  her  adieus  to  the  party,  their  stay 
was  not  absolutely  decided,  now  was  hcY  chance  to  run 
away  without  too  glaring  a  discourtesy,  and  according1? 
she  determined  to  run. 

So  Monny  crossed  the  Cape  with  the  Isry-Chrisses,  and 
took  her  old  place  in  their  cottage,  —  the  little  best  room, 
or  parlor,  on  the  ground-floor,  permanently  adorned  by 
the  spare  bed.  Here  she  slept  and  woke  ;  and  posing  Isry- 
Chris,  —  he  had  been  her  model  for  the  picture  of  the  old 
fisherman  drawing  up  his  boat,  —  she  painted  some  valiant 
hours  to  the  final  completing  of  that  picture. 

But,  having  lost  courage  for  any  further  efforts  in  art 
just  now,  she  spent  the  hours  roaming  out  of  doors,  read 
ing,  or  musing  on  the  only  book  she  had  brought  with  her, 
—  a  certain  French  book  which  she  had  never  opened 
before.  This  was  a  volume  of  abusive  sayings  about 
women,  compiled  from  all  literatures  by  the  industry  of 
Monsieur  Emile  Deschanel,  and  entitled  "  Le  Mai  qu'on 
a  dit  des  Femmes." 

Monny 's  reading  was  not  usually  pursued  on  the  scrap- 
book  foundation ;  but  this  little  volume,  which,  struck 
by  the  title,  she  had  bought  when  laying  in  books  for  a 
general  study  of  the  woman-question,  was  impressive  to 
her  now  from  its  very  fragmcntariness,  making  awful  sug 
gestion  of  the  original  unknown  sources  whereof  these  were 
but  the  droppings.  Droppings  they  were  from  corrupt 
ages  and  from  the  disenchanted  minds  that  are  in  every 
age,  all  rendered  into  a  tongue  whose  very  idioms  seem 
made  for  airy  scoffing ;  and  however  decorously  weeded 
was  the  little  book  by  its  editor  of  too  gross  utterance, 
and  tied  with  a  posy  of  French  compliment  to  the  sex  :;t 
beginning  and  end,  it  was  still  very  melancholy  reading  to 


144  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

the  maiden,  —  a  quite  appalling  response  to  her  present 
effort  to  penetrate  the  secret  mind  of  man  concerning 
womankind. 

True,  many  of  the  writers  of  these  things  were  essen 
tially  jaded  spirits,  looking  cynically  at  all  life,  and  finding, 
in  the  disappointments  of  love  and  the  follies  of  woman, 
only  a  more  pungent  theme  than  another  on  which  to 
exercise  that  kind  of  ghastly  insight  which  comes  of  a  cul 
ture  that  has  refined  the  head,  but  somewhere  missed  the 
heart,  —  that  has  made  critical  and  exacting  every  taste, 
but  wrought  no  true  delicacy  of  feeling.  But  though 
some  perception  of  this  fact  reached  Monny,  still  the 
insight  of  the  book  was  too  subtle  after  its  manner,  the 
analysis  of  her  sex  too  keen,  up  to  a  certain  point,  not 
to  oppress  her  with  a  vast  and  nameless  oppression.  One 
notion  that  was  haunting  her  at  present  gathered  dark 
confirmation  from  these  leaves  ;  viz.,  that  the  intellectual 
man  in  all  his  varieties  had  some  mysterious  feud  with 
woman  ;  if  he  was  sensitive  to  her  charm  he  yet  rebelled 
against  it :  what  meant  the  strangely  mingled  cry  of 
adoration  and  of  cursing  that  went  up  from  so  many  of 
these  bitter  pages  ? 

This  young  admirer  of  the  intellectual  man  saddened  so 
over  them  at  last,  that  she  closed  the  French  scrap-book, 
and  began  to  turn  the  scrap-book  of  memory,  —  of  her 
own  personal  observation.  There  was  her  aunt  Helen's 
married  life,  the  domestic  history  which  she  knew  best,  and 
which  would  so  well  bear  knowing.  She  had  never  thought 
about  that  lady's  marriage  before ;  for  it  is  not  natural 
to  the  young  to  think  of  the  marriages  of  their  elders, 
whom  they  have  always  seen  in  the  same  easy  domesticity 
of  relation,  as  affairs  that  were  ever  in  the  making.  But 
she  wondered  now  if  her  aunt  had  not  chosen  the  husband 
she  had,  expressly  because,  being  socially  above  him,  he 


A  KI:YI:I:I:NI>  IDOL.  145 

would  respect  her  through  life  as  no  other  husband  would  ; 
tlu-  unequal  scale  between  man  and  woman  being  righted, 
as  it  were,  to  a  level  balance  by  this  makeweight  of 
aristocracy  on  the  feminine  side.  A  man  of  a  generous 
heart  and  a  plain  head,  which  no  elegant  culture  had 
made  subtle  and  mocking  in  all  its  thoughts,  nor  scho 
lastic  learning  had  made  severe,  —  perhaps  this  was  the 
only  kind  of  husbands,  the  uncle  Slabwell  kind,  thought 
Monuy,  who  absolutely,  in  their  secret  hearts,  respected 
wives  to  the  end,  however  madly  all  sorts  of  men  made 
hn  e  to  women  when  they  were  young  and  had  not  come 
to  philosophy. 

Mr.  Thomas  Slabwell  certainly  had  not  come  to  much 
philosophy:  he  was  a  shining  example  of  how  much  well 
doing  there  is  in  the  world  with  no  right  thinking  behind 
it,  or  no  thinking  at  all.  Of  this  order  of  virtue,  indeed, 
the  domestic  man,  idolizing  wife  and  children,  finding  in 
devotion  to  their  comfort  all  the  chief  enlargement  and 
purifying  of  a  life  whose  aims  would  otherwise  be  narrow 
and  sordid,  is  probably  as  solidly  worthy  a  specimen  as 
can  be  shown.  A  solidly  well-behaved  man  was  Monny's 
uncle-in-law  ;  yet  he  had  really  no  fixed  principles  of  right 
and  wrong,  save  as  he  could  see  that  family  interests  and 
affections  were  somewhere  touched.  Show  him  a  battle 
field  where  that  sacred  queen  of  the  family,  woman,  was 
threatened  in  any  of  her  sovereign  claims  on  the  »-u*j.  and 
hot  shot  would  have  had  hard  work  to  finish  him,  or  the 
last  ditch  to  choke  him  up,  till  he  had  seen  those  claims 
established.  But,  beyond  such  convictions  as  these,  the 
nothingarian  was  all  at  sea. 

It  was  quite  possible  for  Monny  to  have,  as  she  cer 
tainly  did  have,  a  sincere  affection  for  the  uncle,  who, 
a  mere  marriage-connection,  had  cared  for  her  as  for  a 
.'hi Id,  and  yet  to  miss  in  him  all  that  strength  of  the 


A  REVEREND   IDOL. 


man  "  who  lives  by  law,  acting  the  law  Le  lives  by  with 
out  fear,"  and  to  know  in  her  young  way  that  only  in 
such  spirits  reside  the  really  creative  forces  of  virtue. 
And  now,  when  by  a  perhaps  not  wholly  fantastic  cor- 
lelation  of  ideas  the  notion  grew  on  her  that  her  uncle's 
fireside  was  so  completely  his  altar,  just  because  he  had 
no  other  altar,  shrine  neither  of  religion,  learning,  nor 
art,  to  kneel  at  ;  and  that  high  devotion  to  these  latter 
Bhnnes  men  felt  to  be  somehow  hampered  and  hindered 
by  any  ties  to  women,  —  these  fancies  were  peculiarly 
dejecting  to  the  girl,  all  whose  ideals  in  the  other  sex 
were  beings  of  thought  and  aspiration. 

It  will  be  perceived,  that,  wherever  Monny's  study  of 
the  woman-question  had  begun,  it  was  virtually  ending 
in  the  husband-question  ;  albeit  she  was  so  little  given 
to  talk  of  husbands,  that  her  chaperone  aunt  had  begun  to 
be  terrified  lest  the  girl  had  got  some  unnatural  notion 
of  spending  her  existence  in  singleness,  the  more  en 
tirely  to  devote  herself  to  art.  But  no  :  if  aunt  Helen 
could  have  seen  with  how  much  deeper  concern  the  maiden 
pondered  now  woman's  place  as  a  wife  than  she  had 
ever  done  her  place  as  an  artist,  she  would  have  been 
assured  that  Monny  had  formed  to  herself  no  plan  of  life 
which  excluded  life's  young  dream  of  somewhere  finding 
and  being  united  to  the  perfect  mate. 

We  pass  on  here  to  say  that  she  did  not  find  that  mate 
in  Mr.  Halstone  Roosevelt,  which  young  gentleman  made 
his  appearance  one  of  these  days  at  the  Bay  shore,  armed 
with  a  rifle  for  hunting  —  foxes.  It  was  not  quite  the 
season  for  hunting  that  animal,  even  if  he  had  been  moie 
numerous  than  he  was  on  Cape  Cod  in  these  years.  But 
Capt.  Gawthrop  was  certainly  a  cicerone  who  told  re 
markable  stories,  and  the  young  man  was  in  a  way  to 
believe  any  story  which  gave  him  a  pretext  for  exploring 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  147 

that  opposite  side  of  the  Cape  where  Miss  Rivers  was 
now  sojourning :  so  the  credit  of  the  fox-hunting  fable 
may  be  divided  between  them.  The  solitary  sportsman 
found  the  young  lady  slowly  rambling  by  the  sea  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  fisherman's  cottage  ;  but  his  recep 
tion  by  her,  although  not  discourteous,  was  yet  so  utterly 
hopeless,  that,  being  a  young  gentleman,  Mr.  Halstone 
sailed  away  on  his  yacht  next  morning  from  the  Atlantic 
shore  of  the  Cape. 

Monny  had  little  to  reproach  herself  with  concerning 
this  lover,  with  whom,  indeed,  her  acquaintance  had  been 
brief  and  transient  enough  to  promise  a  healthful  recovery 
from  his  disappointment.  Nevertheless,  she  returned  to 
her  abstract  speculations  after  this  incident,  more  dissat 
isfied  with  her  life,  past,  present,  and  to  come,  than  ever, 
—  a  decidedly  increased  sense  that  the  earth  was  a  pain 
fully  entangled  sphere. 

Life  on  the  other  side  of  the  Cape,  however,  would  not 
be  any  further  entangled  by  yachtsmen  at  present :  so,  on 
the  day  after  the  sailing-away  of  "The  Golden  Fleece," 
Monny  decided  to  return  to  Mrs.  Doane's.  Towards 
nightfall,  therefore,  when  uncle  Chris  had  finished  the 
day's  fishing,  the  old  horse  was  put  to  the  wagon,  and 
Monny  set  forth  over  the  roadless  sands  lying  like  a 
ribbon  between  the  great  widths  of  waters.  So  vast  they 
seemed  to-night,  with  the  unbroken  dome  of  the  sky 
making  another  immensity  above,  and  the  wide  sighing 
of  the  pine-trees  as  wandering  winds  from  the  two  seas 
blew  over  them  with  the  sinking  sun,  the  mystery  of 
nature  grew  too  mighty  at  last  for  this  young  heart,  over 
charged  with  that  other  mystery  of  life  ;  and  with  a  glad 
re-action  she  saw  the  dear  lights  from  Mrs.  Doane'a 
windows  shine  across  the  waste.  Jumping  down  at  the 
familiar  gate,  she  ran  up  to  the  porch  with  such  a  rush 


148  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

of  home-coming  joy.  she  even  forgot  all   '  Le  Mai  qu'on 
a  dit  cles  Femmes." 

Hope  of  Monny's  return  to-night  had  been  quite  given 
up  by  this  hour ;  and  when  her  roguish  bright  eyes  peeped 
slyly  round  the  half-open  dining-room  door,  where  Mrs. 
Doane  was  just  distributing  a  waiterful  of  dishes  for  the 
ii  orrow's  breakfast,  what  a  glad  start  and  outcry  of  the 
matron,  threatening  all  the  dishes !  what  a  bounding-in 
of  Duke  George,  who,  napping  on  the  western  door-stone, 
had  not  heard  the  sand-muffled  wheels  come  up  on  the 
other  side  of  the  house,  and  had  to  make  up  for  his  lost 
chance  at  the  gate  by  thrice-devouring  transports  of  affec 
tion  now !  and  black  Susannah,  dropping  the  sponge  she 
was  setting  for  bread,  and  flying  in  from  the  kitchen,  — 
altogether  there  was  such  a  greeting  as  if  Monny  had 
been  round  the  world. 

There  are  beings  whose  briefest  absence  from  a  dwell 
ing  every  breathing  thing  in  it  seems  to  feel.  Sometimes 
it  is  a  gentle,  unobtrusive  presence  whose  coming  or 
going  makes  this  change  in  the  house-atmosphere,  in 
some  way  so  quiet  as  to  be  undefined.  Or,  again,  these 
lights  of  the  home,  and  such  a  one  was  Monny,  burst 
in  like  a  sunrise  on  the  positive  gloom  their  departure 
hns  made :  there  is  a  stir  of  anticipation,  a  sense  of 
revival  after  collapse ;  they  seem  always  to  bring  news, 
though  they  bring  only  themselves  ;  and  albeit  the  present 
home-circle  comprised  but  a  dog  and  two  old  women,  one 
white  and  the  other  black,  Monny's  coming  was  with  a 
little  tumult  of  acclaim.  This  rejoicing  echo  floated  out 
into  the  front  entry,  telling  who  must  surely  be  arrived 
to  a  man,  who,  coming  in  from  a  solitary  walk  in  the 
summer  night,  just  now  entered  the  house  that  way 
On  his  morning  walk  the  day  before,  we  may  remark 
here,  he  had  witnessed  the  sailing-away  of  "  The  Golden 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  149 

Fleece,"  —  a  departure  seen  by  him  with  such  a  sudden 
great  rising  of  satisfaction  as  reason  had  had  to  put 
mightily  down.  Which  exercise  did  not  in  the  least  pre 
vent  him  from  standing  still  now,  with  a  great  throb  ot 
the  heart,  as  he  heard  that  voice,  as  it  detached  itself 
presently  from  the  other  voices,  a  light  step  coming 
fleetly  on  towards  the  inner  door  leading  into  the  entry 
where  he  was  ;  for  Monny  had  taken  a  lamp  to  go  up  to 
her  rooms  by  the*  front  stairs.  Opening  narrowly  the 
entry-door,  she  slipped  swiftly  through,  and  turned,  so  to 
shut  it  as  not  to  damage  the  nose  of  Duke  George  on  the 
other  side,  whose  company  just  then  she  did  not  want 
up-stairs.  Then,  facing  about,  she  first  discovered  Mr. 
Ajeigh,  standing  with  some  arrested  action,  as  if  about  to 
hang  his  hat  on  its  usual  peg  behind  the  front  door. 
Monny  also  stood  arrested  for  an  imperceptible  moment, 
a  strange  medley  of  memories  small  and  great  rushing  at 
once  over  her  mind,  — memory  of  Mr.  Leigh's  last  return 
after  absence,  and  how  she  had  run  away  from  speaking  to 
him  down  at  the  seashore  ;  of  that  other  time  when  he  had 
stopped  to  greet  her  on  her  own  home-coming  from  a  for 
mer  visit  to  the  Isry-Chrisses,  and  how  she  had  laughed- at 
him  then  the  instant  his  back  was  turned.  With  a  curious 
compunction,  a  desire  to  make  amends,  she  recalled  now 
these  trifles  ;  while,  mingled  with  them,  rose  a  vision  of  a 
black  night  and  a  terrible  sea,  and  one  swimming  out  into 
them  every  inch  of  the  way  by  death ;  and  again  she 
thought  of  the  very  books  she  had  been  brooding  over 
these  uays  past,  —  the  over-subtle,  morbid,  mocking  minds. 
Heaven  knows  what  blessed  sense  of  contrast  to  these 
men,  in  the  open-browed  Anglo-Saxon  before  her,  h^f- 
consciously  thrilled  the  girl,  as,  after  that  instant's  pause 
of  vivid  and  various  reminiscence,  she  stepped  impulsively 
forward,  and  with  some  sweet  young  grace  of  spontaneous 


150  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

trust,  which  cannot  at  all  be  described,  put  out  aer  soft 
hand  in  greeting. 

The  man  who  took  it  looked  down  on  the  winsome, 
smiling  face  upturned  to  his,  which  to  his  consciousness 
had  never  smiled  on  him  before,  which  now  for  days,  that 
seemed  like  ages,  he  had  not  seen  ;  and,  wheresoever  rea 
son  went,  all  life  for  the  moment  seemed  concentrate  to 
him  in  but  one  longing, — to  gather  this  restored  darling 
into  his  arms,  and  kiss  her.  He  by  no  means  did  this ; 
he  by  no  manner  of  means  made  any  outward  movement 
to  do  it :  how  was  the  inward  motion  yet  half  translated, 
though  he  only  took  the  lamp  from  the  maiden's  hand, 
and  set  it  down  by  his  hat  on  the  table,  with  little  ques 
tions  about  her  visit,  any  subterfuges  that  would  detain 
her?  Too  many  men  had  brightened  at  Mouny's  coming, 
and  darkened  at  her  going,  for  her  not  at  last  a  little  to 
perceive,  what,  if  she  had  been  a  vainer  or  more  self-con 
scious  girl,  she  would  have  perceived  some  time  before ; 
viz.,  the  sort  of  interest  which  this  "meddler"  took  in 
her.  For  the  rest,  while  Kenyon  Leigh  had  a  world  of 
self-control,  he  had  but  very  little  power  of  self-disguise  ; 
and  the  wiles  of  a  lover  to  keep  the  beloved  face  in 
sight  a  few  moments  longer  were  too  utterly  new  for 
him  to  practise,  for  them  not  to  have  even  a  boyish  trans 
parency. 

There  was  something  else  that  grew  transparent  also. 
For  what  with  the  passionate  personal  sentiment  which 
was  on  the  one  side,  and  on  the  other  all  those  abstract 
speculations  which  had  had  so  much  of  a  personal  start 
ing-point  of  late  in  the  individual  man  Kenyon  Leigh, 
a  sufficiently  magnetic  atmosphere  vibrated  between  these 
two  beings  at  the  moment  to  communicate,  to  a  nature  so 
sensitive  as  Monny's,  something  of  the  secret  mind  of 
the  man  who  thus  stood  delaying  her  because  of  the 


A  HKYI:RI:XD  IDOL.  151 

charm  her  presence  was  to  him.  And  she  saw,  what  was 
the  truth,  that  he  struggled  against  that  charm  as  a  weak 
ness.  Yes :  in  Kenyan  Leigh's  secret  mind  judgmeLt 
approved  not,  nor  reason  sanctioned,  his  present  action  ; 
and  to  all  this  lingering  there  at  the  foot  of  the  old  stairs, 
dallying  with  a  spell  whose  strength  these  moments  but 
too  w«'ll  taught  him,  his  inclination,  but  not  his  will,  con 
sented  . 

Did  the  latter  suddenly  regain  the  mastery?  Or  did  the 
maiden,  who,  while  she  answered  gently  and  respectfully 
to  whatever  Mr.  Leigh  said  to  her,  was  yet  mysteriously 
disturbed  in  all  that  confiding  friendliness  with  which  she 
had  stepped  to  greet  him,  —  did  she  make  some  movement 
so  decided  to  end  this  interview  that  it  could  not  be  pro 
longed?  Certain  it  was  that  the  man  finally  went  most 
abruptly,  nor  stood  upon  the  order  of  his  going,  but  first, 
and  with  a  swift,  instantaneous  departing,  flashed  up  the 
stairs,  and  shut  himself  in  his  own  room. 

This  leave-taking  was  sufficiently  remarkable  to  add 
decidedly  to  the  dazed  maiden's  trouble ;  and  in  some 
rising  inner  commotion,  whose  chief  sense  as  yet  was 
bewilderment,  she  took  up  her  lamp,  and,  mounting  the 
staircase  alone,  likewise  shut  herself  up  in  her  room. 

To  that  chamber  entered,  about  ten  minutes  later,  Mis 
tress  Doane,  to  find  the  young  lady  who  had  arrived  home 
in  such  gay  spirits  cast  desperate  into  a  chair  beside  her 
bed,  whence  she  launched  at  the  astonished  matron,  the 
second  she  opened  the  door,  this  quotation  :  "In  all  time 
women  have  had  a  predilection  for  fools!"  (It  was  a 
quotation  surging  up  into  her  memory  just  then  from 
Monsieur  Deschanel's  bitter  book.)  "  Well  they  may 
have  !  well  the}'  may  ! ' '  cried  the  girl  passionately.  4 '  For 
the  fools  really  care  for  the  women  the}*  make  love  to 
with  their  whole  nature."  Monny  felt  sure  now,  for  evei 


152  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

and  ever,  why  aunt  Helen  had  married  the  husband  she 
had :  Mr.  Halstone  Roosevelt,  too,  she  saw  in  such  new 
worth  as  a  husband,  it  was  a  thousand  pities  that  young 
gentleman  could  not  have  tried  his  fate  at  this  moment. 
(Mr.  Halstone  was  by  no  means  a  fool,  only  too  young 
to  have  developed  up  to  Monny's  hitherto  masculine  idea 
of  wisdom.)  "The  fools,"  she  repeated  excitedly,  "  do 
not  take  a  fancy  to  you  with  one  side  of  their  minds,  and 
disbelieve  in  you  with  the  other.  That  is  the  way  the 
wise  men  do.  I  see  it  in  the  books.  They  disbelieve  in 
the  character  of  women.  The  solid  qualities  of  character 
which  win  respect  and  esteem,  the  qualities  which  men 
honor  and  prize  each  other  for,  —  they  do  not  believe 
women  have  those  qualities ;  and  yet  they  admire  them. 
It  is  an  admiration  that  hurts  all  round,"  said  the  girl  in 
a  quivering  tone  that  was  indeed  as  of  one  wounded. 
"  It  hurts  the  admirer  too.  I  say  it  hurts  him  too  ;  for 
all  that  Oxford  professor  writing,  in  a  sentence  that  I 
thought  beautiful  when  I  read  it  weeks  ago,  says,  '  The 
highest  conception  that  humanity  ever  has  formed  is  that 
of  power  losing  itself  in  affection.'  How  losing  itself? 
—  how?"  cried  the  girl,  her  voice  thrilling  with  its  pas 
sionate  searching.  "  The  way  Mark  Antony  lost  himself, 
and  all  the  men  in  the  stories  who  have  cared  for  women 
against  their  right  reason  ?  You  should  not  care  for  what 
is  against  your  right  reason.  To  take  pleasure  in  what 
you  do  not  respect  —  there  will  be  a  dissatisfaction  in  that 
pleasure,  there  will  be  no  peace.  I  see  it  in  the  books : 
there  is  no  peace." 

All  the  love-stories,  French  and  English,  that  she  had 
ever  read,  rose  up  in  the  girl's  mind  as  she  made  this 
passionate  lament,  seeming  to  her  only  to  show  through 
some  febrile  atmosphere  of  half-simulated  joys  all  the 
fathomless  tumult  of  the  heart  unstilled ;  —  these  memories 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  153 

really  floated  over  her  thought:  still  the  widow's  surmise, 
that  something  besides  what  was  "in  the  books"  hud 
thrown  Monny  so  suddenly  into  this  strange  excitement, 
was  true  enough  also. 

Very  sure  was  Mrs.  Doane  that  she  had  heard  Mr. 
Leigh's  voice  speaking  with  the  girl  in  the  entry;  and, 
much  marvelling  what  a  man  who  she  felt  certain  was 
Monny's  secret  admirer  could  have  said  to  put  her  into 
such  a  mood,  the  matron  had  yet  the  instinct  to  answer 
as  if  indeed  the  books  had  been  the  only  disturbance. 

44  Now,  my  child,  that  ever  you  should  go  over  to  Isry- 
Chrisses'  to  keep  on  with  all  that  reading  that  worries 
you  so  !  I  thought  certain  you'd  drop  that  kind  of  books 
for  these  few  days  at  least." 

44  No,  I  shall  never  drop  them  !  "  rejoined  Monny  with 
energy.  4  4 1  shall  read  all  I  can  find  of  those  books ! 
They  show  you  great  truths  at  last ;  and  truths,  however 
dreadful,  are  what  you  should  wish  to  know  in  this  world, 
and  not  delusions,"  said  the  maid  with  solemn  fortitude. 

4 'The  man  who  made  that  sneer,"  she  went  on,  44 about 
the  preference  of  women  for  fools,  in  one  particular 
French  book  that  I've  been  reading,  full  of  the  satires  of 
men  of  all  nations  and  ages  about  women,  —  that  scoffer, 
in  what  he  meant  for  scoffing,  spoke  the  substance  of  a 
truth.  I  remember  now  it  is  often  remarked  that  the 
most  brilliant  and  superior  women  are  apt  to  marry  com 
monplace  men, —  the  kind  of  men  whom  the  wise  men 
call  /ooZs,  I  suppose,"  said  Monny,  repeating  the  word 
defiantly,  as  one  who  indignantly  championed  the  same 
fools. 

44  Of  course  they  would;  for  such  women,  just  because 
of  their  superiority,  would  see  clearer  than  other  women 
into  men  and  things,  and  would  know  that  finer  than  all 
the  fine  heads  in  the  world  is  a  good  and  a  believing 
heart." 


154  A  EEVEEEND  IDOL. 

And  ah !  even  as  Monny  made  this  en  phatie  declara 
tion,  there  came  a  piercing  sense  that  the  man  who  had 
met  her  at  the  stairway,  and  whom  she  had  seen  in  situa 
tions  which  sift  to  the  last  atom  the  qualities  of  character, 
—  that  the  heart  of  this  man  was  just  where  he  could  oe 
supremely  trusted,  save  in  this  mysterious  exception  of 
his  attitude  towards  womankind. 

Needless  to  say  that  neither  in  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh's 
manner,  nor  in  his  inmost  thought,  towards  this  young 
specimen  of  womankind  whom  he  found  so  charming,  had 
there  been  any  thing,  that,  in  any  current  acceptation  of 
the  word,  is  called  disrespect.  Nevertheless,  in  the  pas 
sionate  agitation  which  had  shaken  the  maiden  since  she 
came  up  the  stairs  was  a  feeling  as  if  something  like  what  is 
expressed  by  that  word  had  come  nigh  her.  Poor  Monny 
did  not  pause  to  consider  that  all  her  ways  since  her 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Leigh  began  had  been  eminently 
calculated  *to  convince  him  that  she  did  not  possess  what 
she  had  described  in  her  own  phrase  as  the  solid  qualities 
of  character.  Nor,  in  fact,  would  his  failure  to  credit 
her  with  those  qualities  now  have  in  itself  alone  wrought 
her  into  such  a  state  of  mind.  She  had  been  thinking 
very  humbly  of  herself  of  late,  and  with  much  awe  of 
Kenyon  Leigh  ;  and  if  he  had  met  her  merely  with  the 
greeting  that  awful  personages  give  to  humble  ones,  salut 
ing  her  with  removed  benignity  across  the  gulf,  her  feeling 
at  least  would  not  have  been  of  indignation.  But  it  was 
her  perception,  that,  while  believing  her  a  frivolous  girl, 
he  was  still  attracted  by  her,  —  it  was  this  mixture  of 
things  which  had  made  her  gathering  wrath  and  woe. 

Her  little  outburst  of  words  to  the  matron  had  been 
made  the  more  unreservedly,  because,  as  yet,  in  her  con 
scious  thought,  Kenj^on  Leigh  had  no  nearer  place  than  as 
a  kind  of  typical  being,  —  a  representative  of  the  generaJ 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  155 

sentiment  of  the  superior  man  towards  her  sex.  But 
types  and  representatives  could  apparently  be  subjects  of 
very  poignant  reflection  ;  for  Monny  fell  now  into  a  silence  N 
which  made  the  wise  widow,  only  suggesting  afresh  the 
injuriousness  of  too  much  poring  over  books  to  young 
constitutions,  and  putting  a  few  soothing  touches  to  the 
furniture  here  and  there,  say  to  the  perturbed  girl  very 
soon  her  motherly  good-night,  and  leave  her  alone. 

Monay's  perturbation  did  not  subside  with  solitude. 
She  was  very  far  from  imagining,  not  being  a  vain  girl, 
the  real  extent  to  which  Mr.  Leigh  had  lost  his  heart  to 
her :  there  was  only  a  perception  of  some  of  that  senti 
ment  in  his  manner  towards  her  which  she  had  been  used 
to  in  her  admirers,  mingled  with  the  new,  strange  element, 
which  made  him,  as  it  were,  an  unwilling  admirer.  This 
was  her  whole  impression,  but  in  her  present  mood  it  was 
enough.  She  felt  confronted  in  living  reality  with  a  truth 
which  had  been  growing  darkly  on  her  through  all  her 
late  readings  and  speculations;  viz.,  that  the  being  who 
charms  is  not  necessarily  the  one  who  is  esteemed.  This 
truth,  which,  as  well  as  its  converse,  must  be  called  a 
truth  in  the  relations  of  men  and  women,  however  melan 
choly  the  issues  it  is  capable  of  containing,  came  down 
on  Monny  as  the  final  stroke  of  all  her  recent  tribulations 
of  thought ;  and  the  sick  wail  of  the  period  went  up  at 
last  from  this  pair  of  red  lips,  "  Oh,  it's  a  dreadful  thing 
to  be  a  woman  ! ' ' 

Meanwhile  at  this  same  hour,  in  the  opposite  chambers, 
beyond  the  thickness  of  two  partition-walls,  a  man  of 
heroic  stature  was  preparing  to  do  what  heroes  have  had 
to  df  before,  —  to  run  away.  Alas  !  in  this  most  undig 
nified  attitude  I  was  obliged  to  show  the  Rev.  Keuyon 
Leigh  at  the  very  outset  of  this  history.  Then,  however, 
he  was  running  only  from  the  apprehended  folly  of  an- 


156  A   REVEREND   IDOL.  " 

other :  now  he  had  to  run  from  his  own.  And  ah !  that 
strenuous  flight  which  is  the  flight  from  one's  self  must 
be  farther  than  to  a  neighboring  boarding-place,  or  up 
a  staircase.  Yea,  his  apartments  in  New  York  were  the 
nearest  limit  at  which  he  proposed  now  to  stop :  thither 
•be  intended  to  go  on  the  morrow,  and  to  come  back  no 
n?ore. 

The  somewhat  marked  tendency  of  the  weightiest  of 
men  to  fall  in  love  with  the  lightest  of  women  is  a  form 
of  human  fatuity  which  has  received  bountiful  satire  in 
this  world :  likewise,  that  other  fatuity  in  these  affairs, 
which  makes  some  gentle,  especially  sensitive,  piece  of 
femininity  so  apt  to  select  as  her  life-owner  a  man  whom 
all  his  fellows  recognize  as  the  most  overbearing  despot 
of  his  sex.  From  these  undoubted  phenomena  male  ob 
servers  have  generalized  the  statement  that  women  love 
best  the  men  who  treat  them  worst ;  the  more  feminine 
the  woman,  the  more  clearly  appearing  her  innate  pas 
sion  for  being  trampled  on.  And,  even  as  the  masculine 
critic  has  made  this  deduction  from  the  latter  order  of 
cases,  the  feminine  censor,  to  whom  the  former  is  nat 
urally  most  impressive,  has  decided  that  intellectual  men 
prefer  mindless  women  for  wives,  whether  of  the  giddy  or 
the  passively  amiable  variety.  Notably,  for  example,  in 
those  pages  where  the  novelist  spreads  the  panorama  of 
life,  is  the  woman  author  wont  to  select  for  her  most  re 
morseless  strokes  of  punishment  the  superior  man  who 
thus  passes  by  his  proper  mate  to  be  become  enamoured 
of  the  slight  creature.  Nor  does  she  ever  fail  to  imply 
also  that  he  has  deserved  all  his  scourging  by  the  Furies 
for  Ids  deliberate  preference  of  the  lower  to  the  higher, 
—  his  base  ideal,  in  short,  of  womankind.  Thus  George 
Eliot's  Dr.  Lydgate,  whose  manly  life-blood  is  murder 
ously  drawn  by  his  blonde  vampire  of  a  wife,  —  this  man 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  157 

of  noble  quality,  we  are  carefully  told  at  the  outset  by 
the  famous  woman  who  depicts  him,  had  "  spots  of  com 
monness  ;"  to  wit,  "that  distinction  of  mind  which 
belonged  to  his  intellectual  ardor  did  not  penetrate  his 
feeling  and  judgment  about  women." 

Evidently  the  trait  thus  described,  the  taste  whi<  h 
made  him  find  the  high-flown  Dorothea,  for  instance, 
"troublesome  to  talk  to,"  and  Rosamond's  the  delight 
fully  relaxing  society,  in  his  unlessoned  bachelor  days, 
—  most  evidently  this  was  the  accursed  spot  which  would 
not  out  in  the  author's  view  of  him  till  he  had  drunk  to  its 
lowest  dregs  the  cup  of  torment  mixed  for  him  by  that 
same  blue-eyed  Rosamond. 

But,  in  spite  of  these  high  examples,  we  are  not  quite 
ready  to  admit  that  our  hero  was  spotted  with  common 
ness,  because  of  his  extraordinary  fancy  for  the  kind  of 
girl  that  he  yet  soberly  believed  Monny  Rivers  to  be. 
No :  it  is  our  view  that  he  was  really  no  more  in  love  with 
folly  than  those  soft  little  sisters  who  will  marry  the 
tyrants  are  with  tyranny.  He  was  in  love  with  a  tem 
perament  which  may  often  go  with  folly,  but  which  was 
as  intrinsically  attractive  to  his  opposite  temperament  as 
is  the  man  of  forceful  nature  to  the  especially  delicate 
ana  dependent  type  of  woman ;  and  because  poor  Gri- 
selda  mistakes  mere  self-assertion  and  hardness  of  temper, 
or,  haply,  some  accident  of  brawn  and  muscle,  for  the  far 
finer  qualities  which  make  the  really  strong  man,  it  is  not 
proved  that  she  loves  ignobly,  only  that  she  has  that 
frequentest  of  all  earthly  fates,  —  to  dream  that  she  has 
found  a  substance  where  there  is  nought  but  a  shell.  No  : 
all  tiiese  seemingly  mad  marriages,  whatever  madness  of 
misery  they  may  and  often  do  end  in,  end  thus  because 
the  qualities  which  so  irresistibly  attract  are  there  only  in 
Bocming,  or  are  not  supplemented  by  other  qualities :  the 


158  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

attraction  proceeds  from  a  true  instinct,  and,  like  every 
thing  which  is  instinctive,  expresses,  subject  to  the  due 
checks  and  limitations,  a  sacred  want. 

The  swift  decision  with  which  Kenyon  Leigh  had  said 
to  himself,  on  that  memorable  afternoon  of  a  few  days 
before,  that  he  should  never  marry,  had  been  no  fitful 
whim  of  a  fevered  moment,  but  a  conclusion  permanent, 
with  all  his  perception,  not  only  of  the  depth  of  his  feel 
ing  for  one  particular  woman,  but  with  the  perception 
also  that  hers  was  the  only  type  of  woman  that  he  -should 
ever  desire  for  a  wife.  No  being  could  possibly  be  more 
astonished  than  he  was  himself  at  this  discovery :  in  no 
human  brain  could  an  opinion  be  more  clearly  registered 
than  was  in  his,  then  and  still,  the  opinion  that  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt  was  the  suitable  wife  for  him,  and  not  the  girl 
whose  caprice  to  bestow  a  smile  on  him  just  now,  instead 
of  a  frown,  had  been  capable  of  turning  the  world  upside 
down  to  him.  He  did  not  argue  with  this  amazing  expe 
rience, —  he  was  a  man,  in  more  respects  than  one,  of  the 
simple  old  heroic  temper,  —  he  did  not  analyze  primitive 
emotions.  He  said,  that,  if  he  staid  where  he  was  one 
other  day,  he  could  no  more  be  sure  of  his  power  to 
depart ;  and,  it  being  characteristic  of  him  to  take  some 
immediate  outward  steps  in  the  direction  of  any  difficult 
inward  resolve,  he  was  this  moment  packing  whatever 
books  he  had  in  these  lodgings  to  be  ready  to  leave  on  the 
morrow  by  the  ten  o'clock  train. 

There  was  no  atom  of  a  prig  in  Kenyon  Leigh's  com 
position.  Too  broad  and  generous  at  all  points  had  been 
his  life  and  training,  that  he  should  have  the  conventional 
pattern  of  minister's  wife  set  up  in  his  mind  as  the  only 
proper  wife  for  him.  He  simply  thought  Monny  Rivers 
an  impossible  wife  for  any  serious  man  whatever,  engaged 
in  any  arduous  work  in  life  For  he  by  no  means  asked 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  159 

alone  what  the  butterfly  could  at  last  be  to  such  a  hus 
band,  but  what  could  such  a  husband  be,  what  could  he 
really  do  for  the  happiness  of  the  butterfly?  His  infatua 
tion  for  the  girl  was  quite  strong  enough  for  him  to  have 
flung  to  the  winds  the  question  how  he  could  live  with 
her :  he  could  not  so  dispose  of  the  question  how  she 
could  live  with  him. 

It  may  be  suggested  that  this  was  a  man  whose  express 
business  in  life  was  to  develop  the  serious  side  of  people  : 
why  did  he  not  set  himself  forthwith  to  create  a  soul  in 
the  Undine  who  had  so  bewitched  him, — to  mould  this 
maiden,  now  in  her  plastic  years,  into  whatever  manner  o\ 
mate  he  approved  ?  —  a  favorite  idea  with  many  merely 
secular  men  in  choosing  a  wife. 

Well,  such  an  idea  as  this  never  occurred  to  the  Rev. 
Kenyon  Leigh :  he  could  have  gone  round  the  world,  and 
preached  regeneration  to  every  creature  in  it  save  only  this 
one  ;  it  was  the  one  piece  of  imperfect  human  clay  myste 
riously  removed  in  his  mind  from  any  thought  of  fashion 
ing  it  anew.  He  had  decided,  as  we  know,  what  Monny 
did  with  her  afternoons,  and  what  she  did  with  her  morn 
ings,  and  what  she  thought  about  when  she  walked  under 
the  apple-trees  ;  and  yet  to  see  her  walk  under  the  apple- 
trees  had  been  an  indefeasible  pleasure  still.  Just  as  she 
was,  as  he  thought  she  was,  he  could  not  marry  her ;  but, 
just  as  he  thought  she  was,  there  is  no  denying  that  ho 
had  fallen  in  love  with  her,  and  that  sentiment  in  the  pure 
heart  will  have  an  element  of  reverence  in  it,  will  make  to 
itself  a  kind  of  altar,  whether  the  temple  be  there  or  no. 
Yet  none  the  less  beside  his  sentiment  of  worship  for  this 
maiden  stood  all  the  while  his  mental  conception  of  her — • 
a  recognized  disproportion  of  things,  a  non-correspond 
ence  between  cause  and  effect,  which  in  this  man's  nature 
made  a  kind  of  panic. 


160  A   KEVEREND   IDOL. 

It  was  not  a  nature  subject  to  panic :  nothing  had  more 
impressed  Monny  on  the  night  of  the  shipwreck  than  to 
see  how,  the  instant  he  fairly  drew  breath  out  of  water, 
he  so  recovered  his  habitual  equilibrium,  it  seemed  impos 
sible  to  realize  at  all  the  terrilic  struggle  out  of  which  he 
had  just  come.  And  indeed  nowhere,  perhaps,  do  great 
rulers  of  men  and  things  more  show  their  greatness  than 
in  this  very  ease  and  entireness  with  which  they  pass  from 
some  tremendous  commotion  to  calm ;  and  the  secret 
probably  is  that  the  calm  has  never  really  been  lost  at  all ; 
that,  in  their  utmost  hurricane  of  action,  there  has  been  an 
inner  centre  of  quiet,  never  invaded,  controlling  all  the 
passion  with  which  every  faculty  must  move,  so  that  in 
its  fiercest  energy  there  is  no  frenzy.  Certain  it  was  that 
this  strong  swimmer,  not  in  the  black  whirling  caldron  of 
the  midnight  sea,  nor  even  in  those  spiritual  tempests 
of  a  year  before,  which  had  left  unreached  that  sane, 
sound  core  of  purpose  in  the  man  which  had  brought  him 
home  so  soon  as  he  found  that  what  he  voyaged  for  lay 
not  beyond  the  seas,  —  not  in  these  shocks  had  Kenyon 
Leigh  known  the  sense  of  chaos,  and  the  rout  of  reason, 
but  in  the  contrary  currents  set  in  motion  by  a  girl's  smile. 
Contrary  they  were,  giving  no  promise,  if  he  yielded  to 
them,  but  of  unrest  forever,  —  Monny  herself  could  not 
have  so  testified  as  could  the  man  who  had  met  her  in  the 
dim  old  entry,  to  the  absence  of  all  peace  from  a  passion 
wherein  charm  and  esteem  do  not  go  together. 

Assuredly  he  profoundly  esteemed  in  Monny  Rivers 
many  excellent  qualities.  He  thought  her  guileless  and 
open  as  the  day :  it  had  been  her  first  supreme  attraction 
to  him.  Nor  had  all  her  exceptional  behavior  to  himself 
prevented  him  from  seeing  that  she  was  habitually  both 
well-bred  and  sweet-tempered.  An  innocent,  lovely,  be 
witching  plaything ;  but  he  could  not  relegate  her  to  any 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  1G1 

such  place  in  his  life  as  one  gives  to  playthings :  the 
paradox  was  true,  that,  if  he  had  loved  her  less,  he  could 
hf.ve  thought  of  marrying  her  more. 

And  so,  while  the  long  leaves  of  the  Balin-of-Gilead 
tree  swayed  in  the  moonlight  at  the  open  window,  the 
books  were  packed,  a  kerosene  lamp  flashing  into  the 
depths  of  the  Puritan  dark  closet  as  the  old  Romish  saints 
were  rummaged  out  therefrom  by  the  minister's  unforget- 
ting  hand,  headlong  went  those  brethren  into  his  depait- 
ing  boxes,  then  a  very  few  moments  more  sufficed  to  toss 
all  other  properties  which  he  had  at  Cape  Cod  into  a  state 
for  transportation. 

And,  these  things  being  accomplished,  he  sought  the 
repose  of  the  just. 


162  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

T  INHERE  arose  next  morning  in  the  eastern  chambers 
•-L  of  Mrs.  Doane's  house  a  much  dejected  young 
woman  and  an  utterly  discouraged  artist. 

To  young  Monny  Rivers  unquestionably  belonged  the 
title  of  true  artist  in  this,  that  she  only  valued  her  vocation 
as  it  might  enable  her  to  shape  in  some  outward  form  life's 
inner  meanings.  When,  therefore,  those  grew  dark  and 
doubtful  to  her,  as  they  did  now,  her  brushes  fell  from 
her  hand,  and  all  her  skill  therewith  seemed  to  her  only 
some  poor  trick  which  she  had  insanely  wasted  years  in 
acquiring.  That  sense  which  had  finally  settled  on  her,  of 
a  primary,  ineradicable  discordance  between  the  two  halves 
which  make  up  the  whole  of  humanity,  reached,  with  its 
blight,  to  every  sentiment,  emotion,  and  aspiration  of  that 
humanity  which  she  had  ever  essayed  to  express  on  canvas. 
So  taking  a  sick-hearted  look  around  her  studio  this 
morning,  with  a  mere  dreary  wonder  as  to  what  had  sus 
tained  her  through  all  that  drawing  of  lines  and  mixing 
of  paints,  she  went  down-stairs. 

It  was  not  quite  breakfast- time  ;  and  Monny  wandered 
out  into  ,the  much  elongated  back  regions  of  the  houso : 
it  ended  in  two  wings,  in  one  of  which  was  the  siimmgr- 
kitchen,  while  at  the  extremity  of  the  other  was  a  room 
known  as  the  milk-room,  although  Mrs.  Doane  kept  no 
cow  at  present.  In  this  latter  room  she  found  the  widow. 

"  Are  there  any  errands  that  I  can  do  for  you  to  the 
village?"  askeri  the  young  lady,  after  she  had  said  her 


A   EEVEREND   IDOL.  103 

good-morning,  one  of  the  prompters  of  the  question  being 
her  habitual  impulse  to  avoid  the  family  meal-times : 
which  impulse  was  about  the  only  sentiment  that  she  had 
left  actively  alive  this  morning. 

"Bless  you,  my  dear!  nothing  in  the  world  that  I 
think  of,'  replied  the  matron.  "  I've  just  sent  Susannah 
for  the  milk,  as  little  Bobby  Gates  is  lame  yet,  with  a 
nail  he  run  into  his  foot  two  or  three  days  ago :  so  I  told 
his  mother  I'd  send  till  he  was  all  right  again. 

"But  Miss  Monny,"  added  the  matron,  as  the  girl  was 
turning  away,  "  there's  something  I  was  thinking  of  only 
a  minute  ago,  that  you  used  to  do  for  me,  if  you're  not 
too  busy." 

Monny  paused  at  this  intimation  that  there  was  any 
thing  remaining  in  the  offices  of  life  to  which  her  powers 
were  adequate ;  and  Mrs.  Doane  forthwith  opened  the 
refrigerator,  taking  thence  a  roll  of  very  superior-looking 
butter.  She  imported,  while  she  had  these  high-priced 
summer  boarders,  what  she  required  of  that  article  for 
table-use  by  way  of  Boston  market,  as  the  lower  portion 
of  Cape  Cod  is  not  a  rich  grazing  country. 

44 1  was  thinking  just  now,  as  I  took  a  look  at  this," 
began  Mrs.  Doane,  —  u  it  came  last  night  with  the  fruit 
on  the  train,  the  real  gilt-edged  butter  from  Worcester 
County,  and  a  nicer  flavor  never  was,"  said  the  house 
keeper  with  satisfaction,  —  "I  wa,s  thinking  how  you 
used  to  ornament  the  butter-plates  years  ago,  making 
pictures  in  the  butter,  natural  as  life.  Don't  you  remem 
ber  ?  Now,  if  I  cut  off  a  round  of  this,  would  you  maKe 
one  to  put  on  the  tea-table  to-night?  " 

44  Oh,  cut  it  all  up  !  "  said  Mouny  carelessly.  4t  I  will 
do  Ihe  whole,  if  you  wish.  Is  it  soft  enough  to  model 
now?" 

44  Well,  I  think  just  about  as  you  used  to  like  it.     The 


164  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

ice  is  all  gone  out  of  the  refrigerator :  so  it's  only  about 
half  hard,"  said  the  widow,  beginning  to  cut  the  butter; 
while  Monny  was  already  gone  to  pull  some  straws  from 
the  corn-broom,  and  then  out  of  doors  to  select  some 
splinters  from  the  wood-pile. 

Returning  presently  with  these  implements,  she  rinsed 
them  in  a  bowl  of  water,  and,  sitting  down  by  the  old 
deal-table,  drew  towards  her  the  plate  on  which  Mrs. 
Doane  had  placed  the  first  round  from  the  golden  butter- 
ball,  and  began  her  work.  The  latter,  meanwhile,  had 
taken  the  shortest  cut  to  her  kitchen ;  viz.,  across  the  bit 
of  grassy  yard,  enclosed  on  three  sides,  like  a  little  court, 
by  the  walls  of  the  house,  with  its  two  queer  extensions 
long  drawn  out  under  their  sloping  roofs.  The  house 
keeper,  crossing  this  outdoor  space,  had  bestowed  a  look 
on  the  corn-cake  in  the  oven,  and  manipulated  the  damp 
ers  of  the  range,  to  deaden  the  coals  a  little  for  broiling ; 
then,  bringing  a  large  plate  or  two,  she  came  back,  and 
divided  the  rest  of  the  gilt-edged  butter  into  the  proper 
sections,  laying  them  round  on  the  plates  in  readiness  for 
the  artist's  hand.  As  the  Centennial  Exposition  was  not 
yet  quite  arrived,  with  Western  sculptresses  making  a 
specialty  of  moulding  heads  in  butter,  Monny  was  not  at 
all  aware  that  the  material  in  which  she  wrought  was 
classic.  She  had  never  experimented  in  it  herself,  save 
for  the  literal  purpose  of  decorating  Mrs.  Doane's  table ; 
but,  in  the  very  peculiarity  of  her  mood  this  morning,  she 
presently  bent  over  her  work  with  a  certain  absorption. 
It  was  two  or  three  years  since  she  remembered  to  have 
made  any  butter  heads  ;  and,  perceiving  that  her  skill 
had  increased  in  that  time,  she  went  on  elaborating  her 
grotesque  material,  with  a  half-melancholy,  half-ironical 
impulse  to  do  well  this  ridiculous  work  which  was  her 
long  farewell  to  art,  being  quite  sure  this  morning  that 
she  had  done  with  painting  pictures  forever. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  1(55 

44  Susannah  has  come  with  the  milk,  and  I'm  just  going 
to  ring  the  bell,"  announced  Mrs.  Doane,  appearing  by 
and  by  at  the  inner  door.  "  You'll  come  to  breakfast, 
won't  you,  Miss  Monny?"  she  added,  pleased  that  thia 
boarder,  who  was  always  avoiding  the  other  boarder,  was 
entrapped  for  at  least  one  meal. 

To  the  matron's  disappointment,  however,  Monny  re 
plied,  "  No.  I  want  to  stay  and  finish  these  now,  if  you 
will  please  tell  Susannah,  when  she  has  done  waiting  on 
the  table,  to  bring  me  a  little  breakfast  out  here." 

The  widow,  having  keenly  in  mind  last  night's  myste 
rious  disturbance,  did  not  venture  to  urge  the  maiden 
further,  but,  shutting  the  door  at  her  request,  went  to 
preside  at  the  breakfast-table. 

Monny  worked  busily  on,  only  interrupted  by  Susannah 
crossing  the  little  grass-plot  from  the  kitchen  presently, 
to  ask  what  she  would  have  for  breakfast,  and  coming 
again  to  bring  the  chosen  viands  on  a  waiter.  These 
consisted  of  corn-cake,  a  boiled  egg,  and  some  sliced 
peaches;  which  breakfast  Monny  consumed  at  intervals, 
while  she  still  shaped  with  her  sticks  and  straws  the 
plastic  substance  before  her.  A  little  child  on  tiptoe, 
tugging  desperately  to  lift  the  handle  of  a  churn,  its  baby 
mouth  pursed  up,  and  its  fat  cheeks  puffed  out  with  the 
effort ;  a  man  with  a  milk-pail,  letting  down  a  pair  of 
bars,  "the  head  of  an  eager  cow  being  thrust  over  them  ; 
the  face  of  a  dreaming  girl  looking  out  of  a  dairy-win 
dow,  and  forgetting  to  skim  the  cream, — these  simplest 
little  fancies  Monny  wrought  out  on  one  round  of  butter 
nftor  another ;  but  the  born  cunning  of  her  hand  and  its 
long-practised  skill  were  in  them. 

Meanwhile  there  were  boiled  eggs  and  corn-cake  on  the 
orderly  breakfast-table  in  an  inner  room,  and  coffee  ai  d 
chops,  and  baked  potatoes,  and  such  other  substantiate 


166  A   HEVEREND   IDOL. 

of  diet ;  but  the  minister  listened,  with  some  inner  stiain 
which  decidedly  interfered  with  appetite,  for  the  light- 
coming  echo  of  a  certain  footfall,  hoping  against  hope 
to  hear  it  through  all  the  long-drawn-out  melancholy 
meal.  At  last,  however,  having  pared  peaches  with 
infinite  slow  nicety,  and  then  forgotten  to  eat  them,  he 
rose  with  one  of  his  abrupt  movements,  and  vanished  up 
stairs. 

With  thoughtful,  knitted  brow  Mrs.  Doane  went  slowly 
out  into  her  kitchen,  meeting,  at  the  foot  of  the  back  stairs, 
Susannah,  who  came  down  from  making  the  beds  to  ask, 
with  astonished  glitter  of  eyes  and  teeth,  "  Is  his  Honor 
gwine  away?  His  rooms  has  got  an  all-clared-out  look, 
an'  portmanter  an*  things  standin'  up  on  end  ready  to 
start." 

"  Sit  down,  and  eat  your  breakfast  right  away,  Susan 
nah,  and  don't  be  talking!  "  said  the  mistress,  in  a  tone 
of  asperity  quite  unusual  for  her  to  employ  to  her  long- 
familiar  handmaid.  "  The  minister  is  going  up  to  Boston 
of  errands,  may  be,  or  to  dedicate  a  church,  or  something. 
We  are  not  to  be  noticing  things  about  boarders,"  pro 
nounced  Mrs.  Doane.  But  the  extinguisher  which  she  had 
thought  prudent  thus  to  put  on  Susannah's  curiosity  by 
no  means  satisfied  herself.  She  stepped  directly  across, 
therefore,  into  the  milk-room  ;  but  Monny  was  not  there. 
Having  finished  her  breakfast  and  her  artistic  efforts,  she 
had  strayed  listlessly  out  of  doors,  and  was  now  wander 
ing,  bareheaded,  down  the  lane  in  rear  of  the  house. 
Thus  the  matron  could  not  enlighten  the  alarmed  per 
plexity  which  Susannah's  announcement  had  caused  her 
by  taking  a  fresh  look  of  examination  at  the  young  lady, 
who,  she  was  convinced,  had  to  do  at  present  with  what 
ever  was  unusual  in  Mr.  Leigh's  moods  and  movements 
The  widow  had  by  no  means  failed  to  observe  his  mood 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  1G7 

all  break  fast- time,  and  to  connect  it  with  Monny's  ex 
traordinary  mood  the  night  before,  however  mystified  she 
was  as  to  the  point  of  connection  ;  and,  lost  in  conjecture, 
she  was  going  rather  absently  about  some  little  affairs  she 
had  to  mind  in  the  milk-room,  when  she  heard  approach 
ing  —  not  Monny,  but  Mr.  Leigh. 

This  unaccustomed  prowler  through  Mrs.  Doane's  back 
kitchens  was,  in  fact,  seeking  his  landlady  to  ask  her  for 
whatever  bill  might  yet  be  unsettled  against  him,  and  to 
inform  her  of  his  intended  departure  at  ten  o'clock ;  for 
he  intended  his  going  only  the  more  firmly  since  his  dis 
appointed  longing  at  breakfast  to  see  once  more  the  bright 
face  which  he  was  to  bid  farewell  to  forever,  since  every 
lapsing  moment  of  that  pain  had  but  shown  him  anew  his 
necessity  for  flight.  But  he  suppressed  strange  emotions 
as  he  passed  now  from  one  to  another  of  the  queer  old 
rooms :  it  was  a  cleaving  pang  to  part  with  the  very  walls 
of  the  old  house  where  he  had  found  that  pretty  shell,  — 
only  a  many-tinted,  lovely  shell ;  yet  he  had  heard  in  it 
the  murmur  of  the  infinite  sea. 

Well,  the  man  who  was  thus  grappling  with  fate  came 
somehow  to  the  milk-room,  discerning  the  widow's  honest 
back  through  its  open  door.  She  was  standing,  at  the 
moment,  before  the  big  old  table  pushed  against  the  oppo 
site  wall,  where  Monny's  butter-plates  were  still  displayed  ; 
and,  as  she  heard  the  step  of  her  ministerial  boarder,  she 
had  a  sudden  impulse  to  show  him  those  works  in  butter. 
Xow  Monny,  in  her  generally  increased  sensitiveness  of 
late  about  Mr.  Leigh,  had  more  straitly  charged  her  land 
lady  than  ever  before  to  keep  locked  and  hidden  the  som  t 
of  her  studio.  But  showing  butter-plates,  thought  the 
Puritan  casuist,  was  not  showing  pictures;  and.  as  tho 
minister  paused  on  the  threshold  behind  her,  she  turned 
about  before  he  spoke,  holding  out  to  him  one  of  the 
plates,  with  — 


168  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

4 'Did  you  ever  see  any  thing,  sir,  prettier  than  thai 
which  Miss  Monny  has  just  been  doing?" 

Arrested  by  the  name,  Mr.  Leigh  mechanically  took  the 
dish  extended  to  him,  beginning  to  say,  — 

"Where  in  the  world  do  you  get  such  a  wonderful 
stamp?"  But  the  words  had  not  passed  his  lips  when 
his  eye  recognized  the  fact  which  the  matron  hastened  to 
assure  him  of. 

"There's  no  stamp  about  it  at  all,  sir:  she  does  them 
all  out  of  her  own  head,  with  little  sticks  and  straws.  She 
did  all  those  while  she  was  eating  her  breakfast  here," 
said  the  widow,  drawing  forward  the  other  plates  to  the 
front  of  the  table. 

Naturally  Mrs.  Doane  could  not  know  as  did  Mr.  Leigh, 
who  had  much  knowledge  of  art,  how  very  extraordinary 
the  butter-plates  were  ;  nor  could  all  her  surmises  about 
his  interest  in  Miss  Monny  measure  the  sensations  with 
which  he  bent  over  that  table. 

He  saw  every  thing  on  it  at  a  glance, — the  remains 
of  Monny 's  breakfast:  a  fearfully  suggestive  sight  that 
was  to  him.  It  suggested  to  him  on  the  instant  that 
utterly  forgotten  deed  of  his,  viz.,  where  and  how  he  had 
taken  his  first  breakfast  under  Mrs.  Doane's  roof ;  and, 
whether  or  no  that  famous  meal  was  "  hot "  in  the  eating, 
it  certainly  "burnt  him  up"  now  to  remember  it.  An 
awful  sense  of  having  driven  out  this  dainty  girl,  in  her 
white  dresses,  to  take  her  meals  in  the  uttermost  back 
kitchen  of  the  house,  where,  taking  them  with  one  hand, 
she  executed  with  the  other,  in  a  fine  sarcasm  of  the  ogre 
who  had  thus  exiled  her,  things  whose  first  stroke  he  could 
not  have  made  to  save  his  intolerable- life  :  this  sersation 
transfixed  him.  Mysteriously  must  his  guilty  brain  recall 
the  very  viands  whereof  that  shameless  meal  was  com 
posed,  —  fried  fish,  for  one  thing  :  all  their  bones  stuck  in 


A    REVE11END    IDOL.  161* 

his  throat  this  moment.  Perhaps  that  was  why  he  could 
not  speak,  but  stood  staring  dumbly  at  the  butter-plates, 
with  a  mingled  feeling  of  himself  as  a  ruffian  fit  for  the 
hulks,  of  having  been  justly  doomed,  how  many  meals 
since,  to  find  no  nourishment  in  victuals,  for  want  of 
that  same  exiled  presence,  and,  under  all  these  unquiet 
nurses  of  the  breast,  some  indefeasible  rising  wave  of  joy. 

Did  it  rise  because  he  heard  Monny  coming?  for  sb*» 
was  coming,  very  slowly,  over  the  narrow  loose  boards 
laid  for  a  walk  to  the  well  through  the  dewy,  thick  grass 
of  the  little  court.  Slow  with  melancholy  trod  the  maid  : 
there  had  been  no  strength  for  sarcasm  in  her  this  morn 
ing,  only  a  little  sad  satirizing  of  herself  as  she  wrought 
the  butter-moulds  so  carefully.  Nor  did  she  lift  her 
brooding,  downcast  eyes  now,  till,  as  her  languid  foot 
was  set  on  the  low  sill  of  the  open  door,  Mr.  Leigh's 
voice  suddenly  startled  her.  His  glance  did  not  meet 
hers  :  only  his  side-face  was  towards  her,  as  he  stood  still 
bending  down  over  the  table,  while  he  said,  without  the 
preface  even  of  good-morning,  — 

u  Miss  Rivers,  to  have  done  these  things  you  must  have 
done  many  other  things  in  art.  I  beg  —  I  beg  that  you 
will  show  them  to  me,  —  something,  any  thing,  that  you 
have  done." 

The  widow,  who  was  hovering  with  some  alarm  in  the 
background,  drew  an  inward  breath  of  content  as  she  saw 
Monny 's  startled  look  at  this  address  pass  into  a  question 
ing  one,  then  her  hand  go  slowly  to  her  pocket,  from 
which  she  took  a  key,  laying  it  with  no  more  ado  on  e 
corner  of  the  table. 

"  That  is  the  key  of  my  front  room,"  she  said.  "  You 
can  unlock  it,  and  go  in,  if  you  like.  A  few  of  the  pic 
tures  there  I  have  painted  this  summer,  and  all  of  them 
at  some  time." 


170  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

The  softer  maiden  voice  spoke  in  the  same  tone  of 
restrained  quiet  that  the  man  had  spoken  in  ;  but  the  effort 
of  restraint  was  a  little  more  apparent  in  her  accents. 
And  so  soon  as  these  words  were  said,  still  without  having 
met  her  interlocutor's  eyes,  she  passed  directly  on  across 
the  little  room,  and  out  its  opposite  open  door,  continuing 
thus  her  indefinite  rambles  around  the  house.  For  Mr. 
Leigh,  he  took  up  the  key  forthwith,  and  went  for  the 
door  that  it  unlocked. 

The  Puritan  widow,  who  had  tried  a  little  casuistry  with 
what  seemed  to  her  thus  far  very  promising  results,  after 
thoughtfully  allowing  the  minister  a  certain  length  of  time 
alone  in  Monny's  studio,  concluded  next  that  she  had 
better  go  up,  and  wander  conveniently  round  a  little  in 
the  young  lady's  apartments,  in  case  there  was  any  further 
occasion  for  her  to  act  as  a  providence.  The  matron 
acted  in  all  these  proceedings  of  hers  wholly  by  instinct, 
being  by  no  means  of  a  sufficiently  speculative  turn  of 
mind  to  have  framed  to  herself  any  theory  that  would 
quite  account  for  all  the  behaviors  that  she  saw  going  on. 
But  instinct  in  women  is  truly  a  great  matter :  so,  armed 
with  a  dust-brush,  —  housekeepers  can  always  dust,  and 
pictures  need  a  great  deal  of  dusting, — the  good  soul 
ascended. 

Very  opportune  was  her  coming  to  Mr.  Leigh  in  the 
studio,  on  whom,  it  is  safe  to  say,  none  of  all  the  world- 
famous  galleries  of  art  that  he  had  beheld  had  ever 
wrought  as  did  this  little  gallery  that  he  found  hidden  in 
the  old  Cape-Cod  house.  And  he  needed  at  last  the  sub 
stantial  figure  of  his  landlady,  a  woman  who  had  known 
about  this  amazing  Monny  from  her  babyhood  up,  to 
assure  him  that  what  he  saw  was  really  not  a  dream. 
One  pretty  keen  sense  he  had  had,  to  be  sure,  of  being 
awake;  viz.,  when  he  took  up  the  girl's  sketch-book 


A  ni:\  I:UI:ND  IDOL.  171 

where  it  lay  on  the  table,  —  the  familiar  thing  he  had 
seen  her  carry  about  for  weeks  wrapped  in  a  shawl. 
Opening  it  now,  he  was  doomed  to  behold  at  onee  its 
dated  inscription,  and  to  feel  Monny  mocking  at  him  in 
every  letter  of  it ;  for  he  perfectly  remembered  the  morn 
ing  when  that  inscription  was  entered.  Well,  he  was 
presently  absorbed  in  hearing  Mrs.  Doane's  communica 
tions  ;  for,  inspired  by  such  a  listener,  the  tongue  which 
bad  been  so  long  unwillingly  silent  concerning  Monny 'a 
toils  and  talents  waxed  eloquent  indeed. 

Then,  when  this  useful  woman  descended  the  stairs 
again,  she  went  in  search  of  Monny  herself.  That  young 
lady,  with  all  her  frankness,  was  not  one  easy  to  approach 
with  gossiping  questions  on  such  an  affair  as  her  acquaint 
ance  with  Mr.  Leigh  bad  become ;  nor  was  the  woman 
who  had  known  her  so  long  at  all  sure  yet  what  the  senti 
ment  on  Monny's  side  of  the  affair  was.  So  the  diplo 
matic  widow  confined  herself  strictly  to  business  in  what 
she  said  to  her  young  boarder.  She  found  her  stooping 
among  the  flower-beds,  gathering  petunia-seeds.  The 
petunias  sowed  themselves  every  year  in  the  borders, 
growing  like  weeds  there ;  but  Monny  was  searching 
about  now  for  the  early  ripened  flower-heads,  pouring 
their  tiny  little  globules  of  seed  into  her  hand  as  some 
thing  very  precious  indeed,  when  Mrs.  Doane  woke  her 
out  of  her  absorption  with,  — 

''Miss  Monny,  the  minister  says,  if  you  please,  when 
it  is  perfectly  convenient  he  would  like  to  see  you  up 
stairs.  I  think  he  wants  to  ask  you  something  about  the 
pictures:  he  is  mightily  taken  up  with  them,"  was  all  the 
matron  ventured  to  add  ;  with  which  words  she  retreated 
at  once  within  doors. 

Monny  had  scattered  all  her  petunia-seeds  at  the  first 
words  of  this  summons  ;  but,  after  standing  irresolute  a 


172  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

few  moments,  she  turned,  and  went  slowly  into  the  house 
by  the  front  way. 

The  self-controlled  Kenyon  Leigh  was  at  bottom  an 
impetuous  man  ;  and,  when  he  heard  Monny  on  the  stair 
case,  it  seemed  to  him  that  no  speech  with  her  would  be 
possible  to  him,  without  uttering  some  of  the  wild  words 
of  penitence  and  adoration  that  his  heart  was  full  of. 
But  the  first  sight  of  the  maiden  as  she  timidly  appeared 
settled  all  that  tumult,  leaving  only  one  supreme  solici 
tude,  —  to  help,  to  sustain  her  where  she  wanted  help. 
What  she  wanted  above  all  things  just  then  was  to  be 
perfectly  calm  and  composed  ;  and  she  was  secretly  strug 
gling  against  some  mysterious  trcmulousness  of  the  nerves 
which  was  bearing  her  desperately  near  to  tears.  To 
break  down  and  cry  at  this  moment  would  have  been  hor 
rible  to  Monny,  in  whom  was  not  only  all  the  instinct  of 
reserve  and  restraint  which  distinguishes  the  lady  from 
the  mere  impulsive  female,  but  her  general  feeling  of 
being  disheartened,  hurt,  and  wounded,  was  by  no  means 
wholly  attributable  to  the  man  in  whose  presence  she 
stood.  -And  what  of  it  was  connected  with  him  was  a 
very  indefinite  business  that  she  was  far  from  ready  to 
put  any  such  definite  point  to  as  would  seem  given  by 
a  display  of  emotion.  No :  she  did  not  wish  to  make  a 
s^ene  herself,  and  any  demonstration  of  sentiment  on  Mr. 
Leigh's  side  could  scarce  have  failed  to  be  highly  distress 
ing  to  her. 

Young  maidens  right  maidenly,  even  when  they  are 
pleased  with  the  admiration  of  the  other  sex,  are  much 
less  eager  for  downright  love-making  than  seems  com 
monly  to  be  supposed ;  and  Monny 's  inner  history,  of 
late,  had  not  been  calculated  to  diminish  her  shyness. 
But,  if  she  did  not  want  a  lover  this  morning,  she  was 
in  a  mood  to  ralue  most  keenly  that  somewhat  uncertain 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  173 

article  for  women  to  deal  with  too  extensively,  —  a  man'? 
friendship.  So  the  friendly,  easy,  quiet  words  which 
made  Mr.  Leigh's  first  utterance  to  her  were  as  well 
timed  as  possible. 

"  Mrs.  Doane  tells  me  that  you  have  never  exhibited 
any  thing.  But  some  of  these  pictures  would  surely  biing 
you  recognition  now  as  an  artist ;  and  nothing  will  be 
easier  than  for  me  to  get  them  advantageously  placed  for 
you  in  New  York,  if  you  will  trust  me.  I  should  like  to 
know  \\hat  of  your  work  you  value  most  yourself — and 
these  \  ictures  that  are  turned  to  the  wall,  if  I  might  see 
them  also?"  he  concluded  interrogatively. 

The  girl's  fluttering  pulses  had  calmed  with  every 
moment  of  this  address ;  and  she  was  presently  walking 
around  her  studio  with  Mr.  Leigh,  only  remembering  her 
impressions  of  him  the  night  before  as  some  more  of  those 
absurdly  false  impressions  that  she  had  been  having  about 
this  man  from  the  beginning.  Monny  had,  indeed,  the 
readiness  of  all  large,  sweet  natures,  to  reconsider  her  own 
adverse  judgments,  to  believe  herself  mistaken :  life  was 
yet  a  new  strange  book  to  her,  in  which  it  was  so  easy  to 
read  amiss. 

It  seemed  entirely  natural  to  the  girl  that  Mr.  Leigh 
should  have  all  knowledge.  That  was  not  true,  of  course  ; 
but  it  was  true,  as  Monny  at  once  perceived,  that  he  was 
not  only  an  enthusiastic  lover  of  art,  but  a  most  rare 
connoisseur,  especially  for  an  American.  lie  had  never 
drawn  a  line  himself ;  but  certain  circumstances  had  so 
highly  developed  in  him  the  critical  faculty  in  these  things, 
nis  judgment  of  a  work  of  art  was  a  recognized  authority. 
And,  what  is  not  invariably  found  in  the  critic,  he  had  as 
fine  a  feeling  for  the  sentiment  of  a  picture  as  for  its 
mastery  of  technique. 

To  all  workers  in  any  field  that  is  called  art  come  hours 


174  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

when  their  pursuits  seem  fantastic  and  unreal  to  their  very 
selves :  the  truths  that  imagination  shapes  in  her  airy 
forms  become  air  indeed,  and  all  that  the  picture,  the 
poem,  the  romance,  were  created  for,  dissolves,  even  to 
their  creator,  in  the  insubstantiality  of  the  medium  through 
which  he  works.  This  despair  which  the  philosopher,  the 
thinkf  r  in  the  world  of  facts,  can  scarcely  know,  had  been 
very  heavy  of  late  in  this  lonely  young  girl,  with  her 
much  pondering  on  the  more  tangible  forces  of  life  ;  and 
to  find  no  subtlest  meaning  that  she  had  tried  to  render  in 
her  pictures  lost  on  this  critic,  and  that  this  order  of  man 
gave  the  kind  of  recognition  that  he  did  to  an  artist's 
work,  —  these  things  were  verily  to  her  now  like  bread  to 
the  perishing.  Some  of  the  pictures  turned  to  the  wall 
were  of  her  latest  work,  that  she  had  thus  hidden,  in  very 
misery  to  behold  them,  in  the  circuit  that  she  had  taken 
around  her  studio  before  going  down-stairs  this  morning. 
And  as  she  turned  them  out  now,  one  after  another,  she 
stood  waiting  for  Mr.  Leigh's  verdict  on  each  one,  much 
like  a  child  that  brings  up  its  task,  and  stands  beaming, 
wistful,  watching  to  see  whether  you  will  approve  or  no. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  more  superior  not  to  be  so  glad 
to  be  praised,"  she  broke  out  suddenly,  bethinking  herself 
that  she  was  perhaps  plainly  showing  the  pleasure  that 
sl.e  felt,  as  indeed  she  was,  in  the  gathering  radiance  of 
her  face.  "  But  I  am  glad,  I  am,"  she  repeated  naively, 
as  confessing  what  was  perhaps  a  fault,  yet  which  must  be 
owned  in  tiuth.  "It  is  so  many,  many  long  years  that  I 
have  been  painting  pictures,  and  afraid  very  often  tl.-it 
they  were  all  good  for  nothing.  I  am  a  great  deal  older 
than  people  think,"  she  added,  meeting  some  gleam  in 
Mr.  Leigh's  eyes  as  they  turned  from  the  pictures  to  the 
young  picture  of  her  face.  "  I  shall  be  twenty-one  years 
old  next  month." 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  175 

"That  is  very  old  indeed,"  said  the  man  of  thirty- 
four,  smiling  down  on  this  veteran,  who  announced  her 
approaching  birthday  as  if  it  was  about  her  sixtieth. 
Monny's  simplicity  was  as  adorable  to  him  as  if  he  were 
not  the  simplest  of  beings  himself.  But  a  man's  simplicity 
ifi  never  like  a  woman's,  and  Kenyon  Leigh's  was  emi 
nently  unlike  Monny's.  The  trait  which  sometimes  gave 
to  his  manners  an  air  of  bluntness,  and  disregard  of  ap 
pearances  and  opinion,  showed  itself  in  the  more  gracious 
maiden  in  the  artless  openness  with  which  she  betrayed, 
as  now,  her  sensitiveness  to  those  matters. 

"Men,  I  suppose,  are  not  so?"  she  continued  inter 
rogatively,  with  her  persistent  solicitude  about  the  mascu 
line  standards.  "They  do  not  like  to  be  praised  for  their 
well-doing?" 

What  she  was  secretly  thinking  of  was  of  Mr.  Leigh's 
own  exceeding  shrinking  from  praise  on  the  night  of  the 
wreck ;  and  it  was  quite  a  satisfaction  to  her  when  the 
unconscious  hero,  not  in  the  least  suspecting  what  was  in 
her  head,  yet'  answered  in  a  way  to  suggest  that  there 
were  some  directions,  after  all,  in  which  he  was  not  wholly 
independent  of  all  the  meed  of  mortals. 

"Surely,  in  every  work  that  is  an  effort  to  interpret 
truth,  men  are  very  much  sustained  and  stimulated  by  the 
recognition  of  others ;  and  I  have  been  marvelling  how 
any  man  could  have  achieved  such  work  as  has  the  painter 
of  these  pictures,  in  such  obscurity.  Greater  than  your 
gifts,  greater  always  than  any  gift,  is  the  devotion  that  so 
cultivates  the  gift.  It  is  so  plain  that  you  have  the  true 
artist's  passion  for  perfection,  one  may  dare  tell  you  that 
the  little  pictures  I  have  mentioned,  —  those  where  you 
attempt  least,  but  where  you  have  developed  an  admirably 
pure  style,  and  one  absolutely  your  own,  —  that  those  ar«» 
your  best  work  ;  although  this  Lenorc  here"  (l.e  paused 


176  A   REVEREND  IDOL. 

before  a  large  canvas,  on  which  was  portrayed  the  maiden 
riding  away  with  her  ghastly  lover  in  Burger's  wild  bal 
lad),  this,  and  two  or  three  other  such  in  the  room,  are 
the  performances  that  would  most  astonish  the  public. 
And  as  performances,  considering  especially  the  years  at 
which  they  were  painted,  they  are  wholly  astonishing." 

"  Astonishingly  bad,"  laughed  Monny  :  she  could  laugh 
wilh  real  lightness  now  at  her  outgrown  work..  "  I  know 
the  horse  is  out  of  drawing,  and  the  lurid  lights  are  im 
possible,  and  the  man  is  neither  dead  nor  alive,  instead 
of  both  dead  and  alive,  as  he  ought  to  be.  I  hoped, 
myself,  the  simple  pictures  you  have  chosen  might  not  be 
so  full  of  faults  as  the  others,  because  I  could  make  thor 
ough  studies  for  them  from  the  life.  But  then,  about  those 
simple  pictures  —  I  have  had  times  of  being  dreadfully 
afraid  that  they  were  not  worth  doing  at  all." 

' '  It  will  be  a  re-assurance  for  those  times  to  have  the 
suffrages  of  others,  and  be  sure  you  will  have  them,  of  a 
few,  as  to  the  rare  worth  of  some  of  this  unpretending 
work  of  yours.  It  is  not  often  that  there  is  any  need  to 
urge  young  talent  to  make  a  public  venture.  But  in  your 
case,  I  am  sure  it  will  help,  and  not  harm,  the  artist.  And 
for  the  rest  of  us,"  added  Mr.  Leigh,  after  an  instant's 
hesitation,  "if  you  had  not  hidden  your  gifts  so  deeply, 
you  would  not  have  left  a  stone-blind,  stupid  man  to  fall 
into  what  is  always  a  severe  mortification,  —  the  finding 
that  one  has  failed  to  show  any  honor  where  honor  was 
very  greatly  due." 

"You  must  not  think  I  do  not  owe  a  great  deal  to 
lessons,"  said  Monny,  veiling  the  little  trepidation  which 
these  last  words  caused  her  by  keeping  close  to  the  pro 
fessional  question.  "  I  had  a  very  superior  master  at  one 
time,  —  an  artist  from  Paris,  astray  in  New  York  for  a 
while,  —  who  gave  me  lessons  two  whole  years,  and  took 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  177 

the  greatest  pains  with  me.  Here  are  some  of  the  very 
studies  I  used  to  do  with  him,"  she  said,  going  to  a 
square  mahogany  table  pushed  against  the  wall,  —  a  large 
old-fashioned  card-table,  piled  with  sketeh-books,  a  vari 
ety  of  boxes  containing  art-materials,  and  two  or  three 
great  folios  of  drawings.  "If  you  would  like  to  see 
them?"  she  said,  looking  up,  with  her  hand  on  the  under 
most  one  of  the  folios. 

"  Certainly.  I  should  like  to  see  any  thing,  every 
thing,  that  will  account  for  you  at  all." 

Mi.  Leigh  knew  very  well  that  only  genius  would 
account  for  Monny ,  but  he  was  extremely  glad  to  look 
over  the  drawings,  as  it  was  a  business  capable  of  much 
prolonging :  so,  as  Monny  sat  down  at  one  side  of  the 
table,  he  seated  himself  at  another,  and  began  to  examine 
the  old  studies  she  had  done  at  school  with  the  master  of 
whom  Mrs.  Doan°,  had  before  told  him. 

It  was  a  very  long  while  since  that  particular  folio  had 
been  opened,  and  Monny  had  no  precise  idea  of  its  con 
tents  ;  but,  giving  it  directly  into  Mr.  Leigh's  hand,  she 
sat  quietly  by  herself  while  he  drew  out  in  turn,  and 
examined,  the  miscellaneous  collection  with  which  it  was 
stuffed.  Somewhere  in  the  course  of  this  survey  he  came 
upon  a  certain  half-painted  picture  in  oils  of  a  youth 
about  twenty,  painted  cabinet-size,  on  a  piece  of  prepared 
board  such  as  artists  use.  This  picture,  as  it  appeared, 
drew  from  Mr.  Leigh  the  exclamation,  "  What  a  hand 
some  young  cdballerQl" 

Monuy's  eyes,  from  where  she  sat,  had  fallen  on  the 
sketch  with  the  same  merely  ascertaining  glance,  to  see 
what  it  was,  that  sin-  bestowed  on  whatever  Mr.  Lcijjh 
took  out  of  the  long-forgotten  folio ;  but  she  made  no 
answer  to  his  remark,  and  he  observed  that  her  glnnet! 
just  then  wandered  off  into  a  very  absent  gaze. 


178  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

A  slighter-natured  girl  than  Monny — she  herself,  prob 
ably,  a  week  later  —  would  have  blushed  to  have  this 
picture,  representing  what  it  did  in  her  history,  fall  so 
unexpectedly  into  the  hands  of  the  man  who  sat  by  the 
table.  But  the  constant,  delicate  color  that  made  so 
lovely  her  soft  cheeks  neither  deepened  nor  paled  now ; 
the  dreaming  eyes  showed  no  trace  of  disturbance ;  her 
attitude  only  took  some  peculiar  stillness,  as  of  one  who 

llS  c'DS.   ' 

Long  was  it  before  Mr.  Leigh  laid  down  that  sketch, 
i\ot  because  of  its  artistic  merit :  it  was  plainly  a  piece 
of  Monny's  early,  immature  work,  and  he  had  noted  it  at 
first  only  because  of  the  superb  type  of  physical  beauty 
that  the  face  represented.  Perhaps  because  that  type 
seemed  to  him  so  wholly  un-American,  or  because  of  the 
highly  romantic  pose  and  air  that  the  very  young  hand 
which  had  painted  it  had  given  to  the  figure,  he  did  not 
at  all  imagine  the  sketch  to  be  a  portrait,  nor  did  it  even 
occur  to  him  tliat  his  taking  of  it  out  now  had  any  con 
nection  with  the  revery  into  which  Monny  had  fallen. 
But  it  was  that  revery  which  made  him  sit  motionless 
himself,  his  eyes  apparently  occupied  with  the  piece  of 
painted  board  before  him,  although,  after  the  first  glance, 
he  was  really  not  seeing  at  all  the  handsome  youth  por 
trayed  thereon. 

He  ras  seeing,  with  those  mysterious  glances  which 
see  while  they  appear  directed  to  another  object,  the  rapt 
away  face  of  the  maiden  as  she  sat  in  the  morning  light. 
It  streamed  full  upon  her  from  the  front  windows  of  the 
apartment,  the  table  being  against  the  side  of  the  room, 
her  seat  near  the  wall,  while,  Mr.  Leigh's  position  being 
rather  diagonal  to  hers  across  the  table,  his  back  was 
partly  towards  the  light:  he  never  forgot  any  detail  of 
this  scene.  What  was  to  burn  these  moments  into  his 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  179 

memory  forever  was  yet  hid  from  him :  in  their  passing 
they  filled  consciousness  to  the  brim,  not  with  anguish, 
but  delight,  —  that  large  delight  which  lifts  the  soul  in 
knowing  that  the  being  beloved  is  worthy  of  all  beloving. 
Whether  this  joy  would  ever  hold  any  personal  hope  for 
himself  or  not,  it  was  still  a  joy  which  made  the  lover 
almost  forbear  to  breathe,  lest  he  should  break  the  dream 
which  touched  that  young  face  with  the  same  sweet  mus 
ing  seriousness  that  he  had  so  often  seen  it  wear  before, 
and  marvelled  how  so  light  a  creature  could  have  so  deep 
a  look.  u  Stone-blind  and  stupid"  indeed,  he  seemed 
to  himself  to  have  been :  yet  his  old  sense  of  mystery 
about  this  maiden  was  but  enhanced,  transformed  ;  in  her 
every  movement  to  him  now  was  a  kind  of  sacred  won 
der.  What  was  she  listening  to  ?  What  was  she  seeing 
with  those  dreaming  eyes  ? 

Well,  Monny  in  these  moments  was  really  listening, 
listening  to  a  long-ago  echo  from  her  past,  —  certain  re 
membered  strains  of  dance-music  in  a  high-bannered  hall, 
where  martial  emblems  were  of  right,  and  morning  faces. 
A  nation's  nursery  of  heroes  it  was,  and  heroes  that 
should  be,  looked  the  gallant  young  figures,  brave  in  uni 
form,  graceful  in  their  young  slimness  as  the  maidens  who 
went  whirling  with  them  in  all  that  splendor  of  light  and 
flowers  and  music  which  makes  such  enchantment  of  a 
girl's  first  bull. 

Yes,  it  was  Monny's  first  ball  (it  had  come,  by  certain 
chances,  when  she  was  a  mere  schoolgirl,  not  formally 
out)  which  had  risen  on  her  vision  when  the  minister  took 
out  that  picture  ;  and  what  she  was  chiefly  striving  to  see 
with  those  intent  eyes  was  her  own  self  of  five  years 
before.  Outwardly  she  had  not  greatly  changed.  The 
young  girl  whom  she  saw  waltzing  on  and  on  in  that  ftying 
throng,  with  one  partner  always  coming  to  claim  her 


180  A  KEVEHENB   IDOL. 

anew  as  the  music  beat  wilder  and  sweeter  measures  with 
every  latening  hour — between  that  girl's  face  and  this 
maiden's,  who  mused  so  fair  in  the  morning  light,  time 
had  as  yet  marked  no  difference  so  wide  that  Mcnny 
should  find  such  difficulty  in  realizing  that  vision  of  the 
ball-room  as  indeed  herself.  But  it  was  not  her  outei  self 
of  the  past  that  she  was  thinking  of :  it  was  the  inner 
being,  her  notions  of  life  at  that  period,  her  conception 
of  men  and  things,  —  that  horizon  of  the  mind  may  sweep 
through  vast  changes  between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and 
twenty-one  ;  and  it  was  her  sense  of  these  altered  meas 
urements  which  made  it  so  hard  for  her  to  identify  her 
present  self  with  that  girl  of  sixteen. 

Now,  the  words  which  we  shall  have  to  put  down  as 
Monny's  first  utterance  when  she  woke  out  of  the  remi 
niscences  that  I  have  indicated  will  be  considered,  doubt 
less,  as  a  shining  example  of  feminine  inconsequence : 
nevertheless,  her  mind  had  travelled  logically  (being  a 
woman's)  to  just  the  subject  which  she  introduced. 

There  had  been  something  in  that  backward  look  into 
the  past  to  make  her  vividly  contrast  her  ideas  of  then 
and  now  as  to  what  was  admirable  in  masculine  character  ; 
and  Mr.  Leigh  at  this  moment  made  a  nearer  move  into 
what  may  be  called  her  regard  than  he  had  ever  done 
before.  Simultaneously  with  this  feeling  came  a  solicitude 
that  the  man  who  had  approved  her  work  should  approve 
also  herself.  The  deathless  feminine  wish  to  be  thought 
well  of  personally  by  the  being  whose  opinion  is  valued 
for  one's  talents  moved  her  instinctively  to  put  in  a  little 
plea  for  herself  in  a  direction  where  she  thought  she  had 
been  at  a  disadvantage  in  Kenyon  Leigh's  eyes.  So, 
turning  those  dreaming  orbs  back  upon  him,  she  began 
gravely,  — 

"  I  have  learned  lately,"  —  he  looked  up,  expecting  to 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  181 

hear  of  some  new  form  of  art  that  she  had  been  studying, 
—  "I  have  learned  lately,  a  little  —  to  cook.  I  should  not 
burn  the  steak  up  now." 

At  this  solemn  announcement  Mr.  Leigh  burst  out 
laughing.  The  tension  of  will  with  whieh  he  had  been 
holding  emotion  in  check  ever  since  Moniiy  came  up 
stairs  was  too  suddenly  relaxed  for  him  to  help  it. 

"Truly  I  should  not,"  Monny  repeated,  taking  this 
merriment  as  a  sign  of  some  scepticism  about  her  new 
accomplishment.  "  I  have  practised  all  the  common 
kinds  of  cooking  for  all  the  meals  with  Mrs.  Doane.  And 
she  said  I  learned  quicker  than  —  than  some  girls,"  said 
Monny ;  which  was  putting  very  mildly  indeed  Mrs. 
Doane's  commendation  of  her  quickness.  But  the  young 
lady  advanced  even  this  bit  of  self-praise  only  in  her 
eagerness  to  stand  well  with  her  new  mentor. 

"Very  extraordinary  that  you  should,"  the  mentor 
replied,  still  laughing.  Mouny's  want  of  culinary  skill 
had  not  been  one  of  the  items  which  had  made  him  decide 
her  an  impossible  wife.  4t  Very  extraordinary  that  a  brain 
which  has  mastered  the  difficulties  of  such  an  art  as 
yours  should  be  apter  to  learn  than  the  thick  skull  of 
some  ignorant  Irish  girl,"  —  a  view  of  things  which  cer 
tainly  implies  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  a  more  advanced 
philosopher  than  some  of  his  contemporaries. 

"Were  the  dinners  last  week,"  said  Monny,  brighten 
ing,  —  "  were  they  worse  than  —  usual  ?  "  she  asked  bash 
fully,  intending  no  slur  on  the  dinners  of  the  house,  only 
desiring  to  present  modestly  her  part  in  them. 

4  •  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  Mrs.  Doane's  dinners, 
ex<  ;pt  being  left  to  eat  them  so  much  alone,"  ventured 
the  gentleman  boarder. 

"  I  cooked  two  of  them  all  by  myself,"  announced  the 
young  lady  boarder,  —  u  without  any  directions,  I  mean, 


182  A    KEVEREND   IDOL, 

with  Susannah  only  helping  me  :  I  was  head  cook.  And 
all  the  other  clays  I  helped  Susannah  and  Mrs.  Doane." 

Between  the  one  sensation  of  finding  that  he  had  igno- 
rantly  eaten  dinners  cooked  by  those  sacred  hands,  and 
the  other  sensation  of  learning  that  there  really  were  some 
causes  beside  total  abhorrence  of  himself  that  had  kept 
Monny  away  from  the  table  of  late,  Mr.  Leigh  was  speech 
less  ;  and,  before  he  could  recover  himself,  his  interlocutor 
went  on, — 

" 1  could  never  be  so  sorry  to  spoil  any  picture  as  I  was 
to  spoil  the  steak  for  those  poor  hungry  men  when  there  was 
no  more  steak  in  the  house.  But  it  was  not  my  fondness  for 
art  that  made  me  so  ignorant,"  she  said,  having  in  mind 
all  the  homilies  she  had  been  reading  on  woman's  sphere. 
"I  could  have  learned  to  cook  too  (it  is  very  simple)  ; 
and  I  would  have  learned  long  ago,  if  I  had  thought  about 
it  before.  Truly,"  she  pleaded,  opening  her  earnest  eyes 
on  Mr.  Leigh,  as  if  she  stood  at  the  bar  of  the  whole 
masculine  world,  entreating  its  fair  mind  on  woman's 
case,  —  "truly,  it  was  not  because  I  despised  the  useful 
duties  of  life  that  I  took  to  painting  pictures.  I  began 
when  I  was  much  too  little  to  know  any  thing  about  those 
distinctions.  I  cannot  remember  any  time  in  my  life  when 
I  did  not  try  to  make  pictures  ;  only  if  I  had  not  had  some 
good  lessons  after  a  while,  if  Monsieur  Durocher  had 
not  come,  I  think  I  should  have  gone  on  making  the 
wildest  waste  of  time  and  strength,  trying  to  do  all  the 
impossible  things  for  which  I  was  not  prepared  by  any 
knowledge.  I  think  that  is  the  kind  of  work  that  strains 
and  wears  you  out ;  not  hard  study  under  good  masters, 
but  to  work  blind,  and  untaught  in  all  the  necessary  ruka 
that  you  can  hardly  find  out  for  yourself,  except  by  such 
long  ways  as  use  up  all  your  force  in  just  discovering  the 
bare  methods  of  good  work.  And  soj  it  seems  to  me, 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  183 

thorough  training  is  profitable  for  women  too,"  argue i 
Monny,  encouraged  to  deliver  her  burdened  mind  by  the 
attention  of  the  court. 

"  Not  that  I  am  a  worthy  example  myself,  in  art  or 
any  thing  else,"  she  went  on.  "I  have  been  full  of  all 
wrong  ideas,  which  I  did  not  get  over,  even  after  I  had 
lessons  of  Monsieur  Durocher :  there  were  many  false 
ideas  that  I  seemed  to  have  to  grow  beyoncj,  all  by  myself. 
I  mean,  art  used  to  be  to  me,  above  all  things,  a  way  of 
escaping  from  the  every-day  world  to  a  more  romantic 
one :  I  thought  real  life  prosy  and  humdrum,  and  not 
worth  painting,  especially  in  America.  But  later  I  came 
to  see  how  much  beauty  there  is  in  every-day  things  every 
where,  all  the  fine  and  noble  moments  there  are  in  what 
seem  very  common  lives  ;  and  then  I  began  to  try  to  paint 
pictures  that  would  bring  these  truths  out  a  little.  And 
since  the  real  world  is  where  we  have  to  live,  and  where 
we  ought  to  live,  satisfied  and  believing,  I  thought,  if  I 
could  paint  any  little  picture  that  would  help  to  show 
those  things  clearer,  perhaps  that  might  be  called  a  kind 
of  usefulness  too."  Having  expressed  which  diffident 
hope  that  she  might  not  fall  wholly  short  of  woman's 
prime  duty  to  be  useful,  Monny  suddenly  paused,  fearing, 
that,  in  her  explanatory  eagerness,  she  had  grown  quite 
incoherent  and  tiresome. 

But  the  present  listener  would  have  found  Monny's 
words  perfectly  intelligible  and  profoundly  interesting, 
if  they  had  been  much  more  broken  than  they  were : 
hearkening  to  them  indeed,  and  watching  the  expressive 
young  face  of  the  speaker,  he  had  a  sense  of  making 
acquaintance  with  some  entirely  new  form  of  heroism. 
A  man  able  to  know  that  a  certain  quality  of  attainment 
in  art,  no  matter  what  the  native  genius,  represents  always 
such  a  long  scorning  of  delights,  and  living  of  laborious 


184  A  REVEREND  IDOI* 

days,  as  may  be  called  heroic  at  twenty-one  years,  — 
Kenyon  Leigh  found  something  very  touching  in  this  fail 
creature  to  whom  delights  so  beckoned,  making  her  artist's 
battle  ;  while  added  to  all  its  difficulty  was  this  mysterious 
feminine  trouble  lest  her  desert  should  be  counted  hei 
demerit. 

In  this  sympathetic  mood  he  probably  found  something 
vastly  consoling  to  say  concerning  life's  various  fields  of 
usefulness  :  certainly,  as  he  answered  Monny's  last  words, 
her  face  went  brightening  on  into  some  fulness  of  satis 
faction  which  could  only  have  arisen  from  laying  hold  at 
last  of  a  lively  hope  that  to  be  a  good  artist  did  not  neces 
sarily  imply  a  poor  kind  of  a  woman.  While  this  talk 
went  on,  shrill  blew  the  departing  whistle  of  the  ten  o'clock 
train  from  the  railway-station  of  the  village,  and  the  Rev. 
Kenyon  Leigh  was  not  on  board. 

And  had  this  pair  really  done  misunderstanding  each 
other? 


A  EEVEREND   IDOL.  135 


CHAPTER  XH. 

CERTAINLY  they  seemed  to  understand  each  otbei 
marvellously  well  iu  the  now  ensuing  days.  What 
ever  deep  correspondences  were  in  these  two  beings  hy 
nature,  —  and  there  were  very  deep  ones,  —  it  might  have 
been  expected  that  education  would  still  have  separated 
them  too  widely  for  much  that  could  strictly  be  called 
mental  sympathy.  Yet  they  talked  together  by  the  hour  ; 
and  although  any  one  who  had  known  well  the  Kenyon 
Leigh  of  old  would  have  perceived,  perhaps,  that  this  new 
man  made  love  to  Monny  with  every  breath,  still  lover's 
words  were  as  yet  what  he  dared  not  venture  on :  so 
something  besides  variations  of  "My  angel"  must  have 
made  up  at  present  this  exhaustless  conversation. 

Certainly  the  girl  did  not  know  the  things  that  the 
ripely  educated  man,  thirteen  years  her  senior,  knew,  in 
any  such  way  as  he  knew  them.  But  it  is  not  nearly  so 
much  inequality  of  mere  attainment  as  a  difference  in  the 
entire  mental  habit,  which  is  wont  to  put  such  a  gulf 
intellectually  between  even  very  bright  girls  and  men  of 
thought  and  masculine  culture.  This  bright  girl,  as  to 
her  nominal  education,  had  had  a  very  flimsy  one.  Pri 
vate  governesses  had  taught  her  in  childhood  (they  are 
not,  in  America,  the  learned  class  of  female  teachers,  as 
a  rule  ;  and  the  instructresses  of  Aunt  Helen's  choice  did 
not  make  the  exception)  :  later,  Monny  had  been  placed 
at  an  ultra-fashionable,  ultra-expensive,  New- York  board 
ing-school,  where  nothing  was  really  well  taught  but  the 


186  A   REVEREND    EDOL. 

French  language  and  dancing.  Mrs.  Slab  well  had  the 
most  sincerely  good  intentions  in  thus  schooling  her  niece. 
In  that  lady's  ears  the  very  words  "  female  college,"  not 
to  mention  any  such  wild  innovation  as  a  "  mixed  college," 
had  a  startling  sound.  Such  institutions  —  all  the  newer 
schools,  in  fact,  aiming  at  a  more  solid  education  for 
women  than  had  been  usual  in  Mrs.  Slabwell's  girlhood  — 
the  matron  had  utterly  ignored  in  selecting  schools  for  her 
own  daughters,  having  a  suspicion  of  something  a  little 
too  miscellaneous  in  the  class  from  which  these  ambitious 
students  came,  a  little  crude  and  rude,  not  to  say  revo 
lutionary,  in  the  very  atmosphere  where  such  strong 
knowledge  was  absorbed  by  women :  still  less  was  this 
radical  atmosphere  to  be  thought  of  for  the  book-loving, 
art-gifted,  young  Monny ;  since  any  especial  endowment 
of  brains  in  a  girl,  the  lady  considered,  had  a  native 
tendency  to  the  abnormal  and  dangerous.  So  the  New- 
York  boarding-school  befell  Monny,  with  the  two  well- 
taught  branches.  But  as  thoroughly  to  master  the  French 
tongue  is  really  a  wrork  of  no  mean  mental  discipline,  arid 
as  Monny  did  attain  to  that  end  by  grace  of  this  school, 
learning  to  speak  and  write  the  language  there  with  rare 
purity  and  ease,  and  as  she  learned  also  to  dance  like  a 
sylph,  with  but  very  small  tax  on  her  time,  more  utterly 
fruitless  places,  in  the  way  of  young  ladies'  schools,  might 
easily  have  befallen  her  tlum  this  ornamental  establish 
ment,  which  actually  attended  to  two  ornaments  with  thor 
oughness.  -Moreover,  there  came  to  her  in  the  New-York 
school  the  great  educational  good  fortune  of  her  life,  — a 
real  master  in  art. 

This  wandering  Frenchman,  who,  in  the  declining  yours 
of  an  unsuccessful  life,  had  drifted  over  to  America 
a  while,  had  in  himself  every  requisite  of  a  great  artist, 
except  that  last  combina/ion  of  qualities  which  makes 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  187 

origii.al  genius.  He  was  a  master  of  all  mere  technical 
skill  in  painting,  and  he  had  a  lofty  ideal.  The  divine 
spark  which  he  found  in  such  preposterous  lodging  as  the 
breast  of  an  American  boarding-school  miss,  he  set  him 
self  to  guard  the  more  fiercely,  because  he  considered  it 
doubly  exposed  to  extinction  both  by  reason  of  Mouny's 
nationality  and  of  her  sex.  An  American  was  to  the 
Frenchman  a  raw,  hasty,  superficial  creature,  the  last 
of  beings  to  make  an  artist,  and  a  girl  something  beyond 
the  last.  Nevertheless,  the  spark  was  there ;  he  recog 
nized  it :  so,  all  the  more  because  of  the  small  chance  he 
saw  for  it  to  live,  he  fostered  it  with  a  kind  of  furious 
fidelity,  as  Monuy  herself  had  said.  Her  guardian  sup 
plying  her  liberally  with  money  to  gratify  this  as  any 
other  harmless  whim,  not  only  was  Monny  enabled  to 
recompense  her  master,  who  would  have  bestowed  his 
time  on  this  extraordinary  pupil  whether  she  could  have 
paid  him  or  not,  but  her  master  was  enabled  to  obtain  for 
her  many  valuable  facilities  for  study,  even  in  her  board 
ing-school  surroundings. 

So  this  precariously  taught  girl  had  had,  in  one  direction 
at  least,  some  true  and  systematic  training  ;  and  the  habit 
of  accuracy,  of  patient  searching  after  truth,  which  she 
had  acquired  in  her  study  of  art,  doubtless  went  some 
where  into  all  the  other  studies  which  she  apparently  pur 
sued,  after  such  a  random  and  superficial  manner,  through 
her  miscellaneous  reading  of  books.  For  her  general 
culture  seemed,  to  a  highly  cultivated  man.  of  astonishing 
extent  and  solidity  for  her  years  :  aside  from  a  lover's 
fancy,  her  mere  attainments  were  probably  not  astonish- 
ing  at  all  in  the  sense  of  their  being  beyond  what  anj 
bright  girl  should  be  equal  to. 

The  art  in  which  Monny  had  creative  power  was  one 
whose  labors  were  necessarily  ended  with  daylight :  her 


188  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

school- tasks  had  been,  for  the  most  part,  so  shallow,  she 
had  skimmed .  them  lightly  and  in  the  briefest  spaces  of 
time,  and  at  school,  as  elsewhere,  gone  on  always  read 
ing  ;  then,  in  times  when  it  was  impossible  to  command 
the  more  concentrated  mood  required  for  all  inventive 
labors  sufficiently  to  work  at  her  easel,  a  book  could  still 
be  taken  up  ;  so,  even  amid  all  the  distractions  of  society 
incident  to  her  career  as  a  young  lady,  she  had  still  done 
much  reading.  We  pause  over  this  matter ;  because, 
although  the  girl  of  whom  we  write  was  a  young  lady  of 
leisure,  on  whose  so-called  schooling  much  money  had 
been  spent,  it  was  still  a  fact  that  all  which  was  most 
valuable  in  her  general  education  had  come  through  what 
could  be  called  "  studies  at  home,"  pursued  in  odd  mo 
ments. 

One  sees,  by  the  way,  in  the  newspapers,  some  occa 
sional  notice  of  a  certain  Boston  society  by  that  name, 
to  guide  American  girls  in  their  reading.  All  the  present 
writer  knows  of  that  society  is  such  notices :  but  I  think 
no  woman  who  can  look  back  from  even  a  few  years  of 
maturity,  to  see  in  what  beggary  and  blindness  as  to  all 
the  vital  sources  of  knowledge  her  own  school-course  left 
her,  —  I  think  no  such  woman  can  hear  of  that  society 
without  recognizing  in  it  one  of  the  most  needed  and 
practicable  of  all  the  new  efforts  for  helping  her  sex  to 
wider  knowledge ;  for,  schooled  or  unschooled,  the  nor 
mal  course  of  women's  lives  will  still  make,  for  the  very 
large  majority  of  them,  studies  at  home,  pursued  at 
interrupted  times,  their  main  hope  of  real  culture.  Nor 
is  this  hope,  when  once  rightly  seized,  at  all  a  barren 
one. 

Young  Monny  Rivers  certainly  had  been  fortunate 
above  many  another  in  having  had  from  the  beginning 
all  the  books  she  wanted,  and  in  having  escaped  also, 


A   REVEKEND   IDOL.  189 

in  very  large  measure,  all  that  kind  of  mental  tasidng, 
which,  doing  little  to  strengthen  the  brains,  does  a  great 
deal  to  exhaust  them,  "mocking  and  deluding  with  ragged 
notions  and  babblements  of  learning,  instead  of  worthy 
and  delightful  knowledge,"  as  John  Milton  describes  the 
school-cramming  of  his  da}'.  As  there  is  evidence  that 
thin  cramming  is  monstrously  on  the  increase  since  his 
time,  and  that  there  is  a  particular!}7  barren-  form  of  it 
particularly  rife  in  American  schools  for  girls  as  well  a  a 
boys,  worse  fates  might  well  have  befallen  our  heroine 
than  an  aunt  Helen  through  whose  beneficent  folly  this 
unworn  young  brain  had  had  leisure  to  find  out  for  itself, 
without  a  society,  how  to  make  some  fruitful  studies  at 
home.  No  one  will  pretend  that  this  unguided  reading 
of  a  girl  was  the  best  possible  education  for  her;  only 
that  she  had  absorbed  from  it  much  knowledge  which  was 
worthy  and  delightful  knowledge,  and  not  the  utterly 
disjointed  notions  and  babblements  of  school  text-books 
with  which  so  many  a  bright  girl's  education  seems  to 
end.  She  was  not  learned :  but  she  had  some  cultured 
sense  to  discern  between  the  good  and  the  spurious  in  the 
literature  of  which  she  had  read  so  much ;  she  had  an 
oager  passion  to  know,  to  attain  to  clear  ideas  and  just 
views,  that  she  might  base  her  young  life  on  them ;  and 
she  had  some  adequate  notion  of  the  conditions  of  search 
and  study  by  which  these  are  attained.  She  could  be 
called,  therefore,  an  educated  being.  The  man  wrio 
found  her  mind  so  interesting  was  certainly  much  more 
educated ;  but  the  very  crudity  which  was  uecesszirily  in 
her  thoughts  on  many  subjects,  the  girlish  speech  in  which 
she  expressed  them,  was  charming  to  him,  since  the 
crudity  was  of  a  sort  that  ripens,  and  which  has  ao 
attractive  freshness  even  in  its  immaturity. 

There  may  be  readers  who  will  find  prosings  on  educa- 


190  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

tion  and  the  like  quite  intolerably  out  of  place  just  here, 
since  it  is  well  understood  that  love  is  a  madness,  and  the 
genuine  lover  in  a  .state  of  total  inability  to  discern 
whether  the  charmer  talks  sense  or  nonsense.  We  assure 
them  that  we  are  not  at  all  impugning  this  general  theory  : 
our  only  point  is,  that  this  particular  lover  had  such  a 
prejudice  in  favor  of  reason,  he  was  liable  to  lucid  inter 
vals.  And  in  these  intervals  he  was  such  a  fearful 
bungler  in  all  make-believe  arts,  he  could  hardly  have 
been  trusted  to  keep  up  successfully  the  pretence  of  find 
ing  folly  and  wisdom  all  the  same  thing,  especially  as 
the  young  woman  in  the  case  was  visited  by  rather  pene 
trative  flashes  of  insight  into  the  secret  minds  of  men  who 
made  love  to  her.  It  seems  to  us  fortunate,  therefore, 
that  there  were  some  rational  topics  of  conversation  mu 
tually  possible  to  this  particular  pair.  Moreover,  a  man 
does  not  usually  appear  to  his  best  advantage  when  he  is 
taken  too  violently  out  of  all  his  natural  modes  of  speech 
and  lines  of  reflection  ;  and,  since  Miss  Monny  had  be 
come  so  desperately  charming  to  our  hero,  we  suppose 
that  all  who  wish  him  well  will  desire  that  he  should  now 
become  equally  charming  to  her.  I  do  not  know  whether 
Kenyon  Leigh  was  of  the  class  of  professed  conversation 
alists  or  not ;  he  was  a  man  whose  life  was  very  largely 
lived  in  thought ;  he  was  accustomed  to  express  his 
thoughts  in  words :  what  he  had  to  say,  therefore,  on 
thoughtful  subjects,  could  scarcely  have  failed  to  be  inter 
esting.  It  is  certain  that  all  which  he  said  and  did  and 
was  grew  ever  more  and  more  interesting  to  young  Monny 
Rivers.  Indeed,  this  man  and  maiden  were  so  utterly 
unlike,  and  yet  so  deeply  akin,  they  had  but  to  show 
themselves  as  they  really  were,  to  speak  their  own  natural 
language,  to  find  each  in  the  other  a  supreme  charm. 
And  so,  through  all  these  wise  conversations  on  imper- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  101 

sonal  subjects,  they  grew  so  well  acquainted  ut  last,  that 
there  came  an  afternoon  when  they  had  a  little  conversa 
tion  somewhat  personal  and  highly  foolish.  This  dialogue 
it  will  be  the  need  of  our  tale  to  report.  All  that  wise 
and  edifying  discourse  on  themes  ethical,  aesthetical,  and 
philosophical,  which  filled  the  long  hours  that  the  pair  had 
spent  together  before  the  afternoon  when  this  foolish  little 
dialogue  befell,  will  have  to  pass  unrecorded.  It  will  be 
understood  that  those  talks  were  as  deep  as  the  small-talk 
which  we  are  about  to  note  is  shallow.  Yet,  since  the 
most  momentous  waves  of  human  life  often  widen  from 
some  idlest  little  pebble  of  word  or  deed  which  the  merest 
sportive  chance  has  tossed  into  the  current  of  things,  in 
telling  the  tale  even  of  a  serious  man,  we  must  pass  over 
his  thoughtful  words  to  give  his  trifling  ones  in  some 
detail. 

The  place  was  the  minister's  study,  and  the  time  some 
where  in  the  long  summer  afternoon  following  the  early 
dinner-hour  of  half-past  one.  Miss  Monny  usually  made 
whatever  change  she  made  from  her  morning  toilet  during 
the  day,  after,  instead  of  before,  that  meal,  adopting 
the  rural  fashion.  The  minister  had  a  notion  that  she 
was  about  this  pleasing  duty  now,  and  he  was  listening 
to  hear  her  chamber-door  open,  planning  to  beguile  her 
into  bestowing  her  society  on  him  a  while,  before  resum 
ing  work  in  her  studio.  His  own  domain  the  young  lady 
was  still  sufficiently  shy  of  entering  to  make  some  strategy 
necessary  to  bring  her  there.  So  he  had  spread  out  on 
his  study-table  at  this  hour  certain  matters  which  we  will 
assume  to  be  objects  of  interest.  But  whether  they  were 
old  engravings,  curious  books,  or  remarkable  specimens 
of  seaweed  that  he  had  picked  up  in  his  morning  ramble, 
we  need  not  pause  to  inquire  ;  for,  whatever  the  exhibi 
tion  was,  rt  was  the  merest  pretext  to  insnare  the  visitor. 


192  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

Well,  the  deep  trap  was  got  ready :  there  was>  i  little 
echo  from  the  maiden's  door-latch,  a  soft  rustle  of  skirts 
in  the  entry,  the  minister  appeared  on  his  threshold,  and 
—  "  '  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor? '  said  the  spider  to 
the  fly." 

The  fly  came  walking  in.  Whether  or  no  it  was  the 
prettiest  of  little  parlors,  it  certainly  was  one  of  the  pret 
tiest  of  little  flies,  quite  especially  so  this  afternoon.  It 
had  got  its  hair  up  since  dinner  with  some  bewildering 
ne?r  grace :  there  was  a  gleam  of  gold  chain  about  its 
neck.  Its  gown  seemed  to  the  man  of  the  study,  with  its 
shimmering  white  and  faint  azure,  to  be  made  out  of  a 
piece  of  the  summer-afternoon  sky ;  but  more  prosaic 
observers  would  have  perceived  that  it  was  only  a  demi- 
toilet  of  pale-blue  underdress,  hair-striped  summer  silk, 
with  a  white  overdress  of  very  fine  embroidered  Swiss 
muslin  moderately  frilled  with  lace.  On  one  of  the  roll 
ing  folds  in  which  the  front  of  this  snowy  overdress  was 
caught  back  had  lodged  some  little  gossamer  waif,  of  a 
golden-brown  color ;  which  alien  substance  the  admiring 
observer  of  Monny's  afternoon  toilet  bent  respectfully 
forward  to  remove.  lie  found  it  rather  a  mysterious 
"substance,  something  that  might  have  been  tiny  locks  of 
Monny's  curling  hair,  which  had  thus  shed  themselves 
down  on  her  gown  :  only  hair  did  not  usually  fall  out  in 
exactly  that  way,  at  least,  not  from  a  man's  scalp ;  viz., 
in  a  little  strip  of  woven  fringe  about  an  inch  and  a  half 
wide  and  twice  that  number  of  inches  long. 

"  Oh,  my  rainy-day  friz  !  It  must  have  dropped  out  of 
the  box  when  I  put  away  my  morning  switch.  I  li£d 
forgotten  I  had  that  friz,"  said  Monny,  looking  down,  and 
blushing  a  little  that  Mr.  Leigh  should  have  found  any 
speck  of  disorder  about  her  toilet.  As  for  blushing  at 
being  detected  in  the  use  of  artificial  aids  to  hair-dressing, 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  193 

women  were  quite  past  blushing  for  this  cause  at  the 
period  of  our  tale,  the  year  1*7-,  when  the  somewhat 
Fijian  immensity  of  chignon  which  lias  so  prevailed  during 
the  last  decade  had  reached  its  most  swollen  proportion? 
preparatory  to  a  re-action  in  favor  of  the  present  simpler 
styles  of  arranging  hair. 

Rainy-day  friz  !  morning  switches  !  To  the  dazed  mas 
culine  being  who  still  held  that  atom  of  commercial  hair 
l^twe.en  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  these  words  suggested 
a  whole  assortment  of  such  lendings.  Monny's  morning 
hair,  then,  was  a  kind  of  second-best  variety,  that  she  had 
just  taken  off  to  put  on  —  the  contents  of  another  box. 

I  confess  at  this  moment  the  heart  of  his  biographer 
does  a  little  ache  for  Kenyon  Leigh  ;  for,  although  he  was 
not  of  those  lovers  who  count  up  with  a  kind  of  apprais 
er's  eye  the  "  points  "  of  the  fair  one  whom  they  favor, 
he  had  observed  the  beauty  of  Monny's  hair,  and  it 
chanced  to  be  so  arranged  this  afternoon,  that,  if  any  of  it 
was  put  on,  really  the  whole  of  it  must  be.  So  as  his 
unpractised  eyes  now  turned  the  first  investigating  glance 
of  his  life  on  a  lady's  head  to  see  where  nature  ended, 
and  art  began,  and  could  find  no  possible  joining-place, 
what  could  he  conclude,  having  understood  that  these 
things  were  managed  to  deceive  the  very  elect,  but  that 
ins  beloved  wore  a  solid  wig? 

Well,  even  under  this  startling  hypothesis  he  stood 
firm :  he  still  preferred  Monny,  hairless  (but  for  the 
shops) ,  to  any  other  woman  whose  hair  should  sweep  the 
ground.  Vuvie  was  presently  rewarded  in  this  man,  as 
surely  such  virtue  ought  to  be.  Monny's  tresses  certainly 
never  made  a  more  luxuriant  display  than  they  did  this 
afternoon,  and  there  was  not  a  hair  on  her  head  at  this 
moment  that  was  not  growing  quick  out  of  the  live  cuticle 
that  covered  her  ridiculous  young  skull.  Ridiculous,  1 


194  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

suppose,  philosophy  must  pronounce  the  head,  which, 
being  provided  by  Nature  with  so  bountiful  and  beautiful 
a  covering  as  was  Monny's,  yet  buys  unto  itself  a  switch, 
and  at  certain  times  and  seasons  actually  wears  it.  But 
this  absurd  young  daughter  of  the  nineteenth  century  and 
its  Fijian  decade  stood  smiling  tranquilly  away  there  in 
the  speechless  face  of  the  man  as  she  said,  — 

"  Oh  !  you  do  not  like  switches  —  I  remember." 

What  Monny  mistily  remembered  at  the  moment  was 
sitting  on  the  doorsteps  once,  with  Clara  Macey's  switch, 
and  being  very  pert  to  Mr.  Leigh,  in  some  old  days  which 
seemed  so  far  off  and  impossible  now.  She  wondered 
exactly  how  odious  she  had  been  at  that  time.  The  recol 
lection  somehow  prompted  her  to  go  on  now  with  a  little 
winsome  tone  of  arguing,  — 

u  But  truly,  switches  are  a  great  convenience  in  the 
morning,  when  you  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  work  right 
away,  and  do  not  want  to  spend  the  time  to  stuff  yourself 
up  with  combs." 

"  To  stuff  —  with  combs,"  repeated  Mr.  Leigh  so  help 
lessly,  Monny  clapped  her  fair  hand  on  her  crown  with  an 
expository  gesture  as  she  said,  "  This  way,  you  see." 

The  beholder  so  evidently  did  not  see,  the  maid,  laugh 
ing  and  blushing,  pulled  up  to  view  a  high  back  comb, 
over  which  she  had  heaped  the  soft  masses  of  her  hair  to 
the  fashionable  altitude  of  the  day.  Monny  had,  in  fact, 
curled  all  her  hair  in  the  morning  in  its  own  natural  curls, 
and  then  loosely  gathered  them,  while  still  damp  from  the 
brush,  into  a  long  invisible  net.  This  informal  little 
coiffure  of  the  morning  she  had  changed  by  simply  pulling 
off  the  net,  and  arranging  her  curls,  which  had  dried  in 
all  manner  of  graceful  shapes  in  the  confining  net,  high 
on  the  top  of  her  head,  leaving  a  few  of  them  to  fall  free, 
while  the  others  were  looped  over  and  around  the  comb 


A    KEVEREND    IDOL.  195 

Also  she  had  enhanced  the  slight  natural  waves  of  her 
hair  by  winding  its  front  locks  on  two  crimping-pins. 
Being  less  dependent  on  these  implements  than  girls  with 
naturally  straight  hair,  she  had  not  put  them  in  over  night 
at  all,  but  only  for  a  few  hours  in  the  morning,  laying  her 
switch  round  in  a  braid  to  hide  them. 

Any  woman  on  reading  the  above  description,  which  we 
trust  we  have  made  explicit  enough  to  satisfy  the  most 
earnest  inquirer,  will  at  once  perceive  that  the  heroine's 
hair  in  the  afternoon,  when  she  wore  only  her  own,  would 
make  twice  the  display  that  it  did  in  the  morning,  when 
she  wore  also  a  switch.  The  hero,  however  had  not  quite 
mastered  yet  this  new  mathematics,  in  which  to  take  away 
was  to  add,  and  vice  versa.  We  return,  therefore,  to  his 
case  by  stating  that  the  foundation  of  this  airy  architec 
ture  of  crimps  and  curls  which  Monny  had  built  up  on  her 
head  for  the  afternoon,  being  the  comb,  she  had  not 
moved  it  with  impunity :  some  hair-pins  fell  out,  and, 
after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  refasten  the  comb,  down 
fell  the  whole  shining  cloud  of  tresses,  and,  lo  !  not  a  hair 
of  them  fell  off. 

Fortunately  this  lover  had  held  so  fast  to  the  woman 
through  all  the  fluctuations  of  her  hair,  there  had  been  no 
violent  transitions  in  his  face  as  one  moment  he  mentally 
saw  every  fibre  of  Monny 's  hair  vanish  into  a  box,  and  the 
next  moment  its  restoration  in  this  indubitably  genuine 
magnificence  which  now  tumbled  down  over  the  maiden's 
shoulders.  Still  some  atom  of  a  gleam  did  come  into  his 
face  as  that  spectre  of  the  wig  was  so  utterly  abolished, 
- —  a  look  which  made  the  wondering  girl  say,  — 

'*  Oh  !  did  you  suppose  this  hair  came  off  too?  Oh,  no  ! 
This  will  pull,"  she  laughed,  winding  her  hand  in  her 
fleecy  mane,  and  giving  a  vigorously  demonstrative  jerk 
to  the  head  on  which  it  grew. 


196  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"The  proof  is  not  satisfactory,'*  said  Mr.  Leigh  with 
affected  solemnity  of  tone,  as  he  gravely  advanced,  per 
ceiving  how  a  lover's  opportunity  could  be  stolen  to  lay  a 
hand  on  that  sacred  head.  "  In  all  serious  tests  it  is  cus 
tomary  to  allow  the  audience  to  pull." 

Like  a  frolicsome  kid,  Moiiny  butted  out  her  pretty  head 
for  a  consenting  second,  but  she  shied  bashfully  away 
again  when  the  coveted  privilege  was  scarce  tasted  ;  and, 
pajtly  because  she  was  a  little  fluttered  by  these  new 
familiarities,  she  ran  out  of  the  room,  saying,  "I  will 
show  you  my  switch." 

Back  she  presently  walked  with  that  thing  of  folly  in  her 
hand,  and  held  it  out  to  Tertullian,  —  a  nice  little  straight 
switch,  matching  her  own  locks  in  color.  He  took  it  with 
a  delicious  sense  of  becoming  very  intimate  with  Monny. 
Intimacy  with  Monny  was  by  no  means  easy  to  establish, 
for  all  her  frankness,  and  often  childlike  absence  of  punc 
tilio.  She  was  emphatically  a  maiden  who  was  at  once 
near,  and  very  far.  And,  really,  conversations  ethical, 
sesthetical,  and  philosophical,  had  never  brought  quite 
that  nearness,  that  enchanting  sense  of  domesticity,  which 
the  man  felt  in  being  honored  with  these  confidences 
about  the  switch.  So  he  examined  that  object  in  his 
hand  with  most  respectful  attention,  even  discovering  the 
three  tails  whereof  it  was  composed,  the  tiny  loop  whereby 
the  humbug  was  pinned  on. 

"You  see  it  is  neat  and  dean  as  can  be,"  argued  the 
young  lady,  composed  now  with  all  that  calm  abstraction 
which  naturally  belongs  to  the  logical  frame  of  mind. 
"It  is  not  '  nasty  heaps,'  nor  'graveyard  hair,'  at  all,  as 
the  satirical  writers  say.  You  would  suppose,  from  the 
way  those  writers  talk,  that  we  went  shearing  the  heads 
of  poor  dead  women  all  in  their  sepulchres  to  get  our 
switches,  —  that  we  were  a  kind  of  ghouls  and  body- 
snatchers." 


A    REVEREND   IDOL.  197 

She  looked  so  unlike  a  ghoul,  with  her  bright,  bright 
face  blooming  out  of  the  lace  neck-ruffle  of  that  sweet 
gown,  the  listener  could  but  smile.  But  the  maid  went  on 
with  all  the  seriousness  of  one  who  has  the  correct  infor 
mation  to  diffuse  on  a  much  misunderstood  subject,  — 

44  The  real  fact  is,  that  the  false  hair  is  all  cut  from  the 
heads  of  live  women ;  and  the  women  like  to  sell  it  so  as 
to  have  the  money,  —  in  Germany,  and  the  other  countries 
where  their  hair  grows  so  fast,  and  they  do  not  have  the 
American  climate  to  make  it  fall  out  and  grow  thin  so 
early  —  do  you  truly  think  switches  arc  a  great  weakness 
and  folly?"  the  debater  suddenly  broke  off,  her  mind 
including  just  now  under  the  word  "  switches  "  the  whole 
subject  of  woman's  personal  adornment,  all  the  feminine 
fondness  for  pleasing  array. 

"  Have  I  not  just  been  taught  that  any  one  who  should 
so  slander  this  commodity,"  returned  the  gentleman,  ten 
derly  stroking  the  switch,  "would  only  prove  his  crass 
ignorance  of  the  great  laws  which  have  created  com 
merce  ?  —  excess  of  product  in  one  zone,  and  deficiency  in 
another.  But  as  I  see  one  American  head  which  the 
climate  appears  to  have  spared  ' '  — 

44  Oh  !  "  laughed  Monny,  winding  one  hand  in  the  flow 
ing  ringlets  which  Mr.  Leigh's  teasing  glance  surveyed 
alternately  with  that  superfluity  of  a  switch  which  he  still 
held,  "  my  hair  is  not  so  very  thick.  It  is  a  kind  of  hair 
that  puffs  out  when  it  is  loose,  but  all  goes  to  nothing 
when  it  is  done  up  in  solid  braids."  And  she  illustrated 
the  noiningness  by  giving  a  tight  twist  to  the  tresses  in 
her  .hand,  which,  indeed,  having  the  silken  fineness  of 
fibre  belonging  to  some  varieties  of  curling  hair,  made 
much  less  show  in  braids  than  hair  of  a  coarser  quality. 

"Except  for  causing  suffering  Germany  to  languish  in 
her  commerce,  I  should  say,  then,  it  was  a  kind  of  hair 


198  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

that  ought  never  to  be  done  up  in  solid  braids,"  returned 
the  man,  secretly  reluctant  to  see  that  sweet  shaken  hair 
wound  up  again. 

"  Oh,  everlasting  curls  are  so  monotonous  !  "  replied  the 
maid. 

u  Monotonous !  "  murmured  Monny's  admirer,  wonder 
ing  what  about  Monny  could  ever  deserve  that  name. 
Then,  merely  to  stir  her  up  anew  on  the  subject  which 
kept  her  sitting  so  near,  making  those  fascinating  exposi 
tions  as  to  how  she  did  up  her  hair,  he  held  up  that  almost 
invisible  morsel  of  a  rainy-day  friz,  looking  from  it  to  the 
head  of  the  girl,  whose  own  sunny  locks  hung  on  her 
temples  like  a  golden  fleece,  as  he  asked,  "  And  where, 
where,  where,  do  you  bestow  this  miserable  string?  " 

"  Oh,  I  never  wear  that  at  all !  "  said  Monny,  dimpling. 
' c  That  is  how  I  forgot  it  was  in  the  box.  I  bought  it, 
thinking  I  might  want  it  some  time.  All  the  girls  have 
them,  for  a  convenience,  when  they  are  going  to  parties 
in  the  evening."  The  secret  fact  was,  that  Monny  had 
a  little  personal  dislike  of  false  frisettes,  as  she  made  a 
distinction  herself  between  stuffing  out  one's  back  hair, 
and  wearing  foreign  locks  dropping  over  the  very  fore 
head  :  still,  since  "  the  girls  "  wore  them,  she  was  bound 
to  defend  frisettes  also.  So  she  went  on,  u  You  see,  you 
can  crimp  your  own  hair  to  look  much  prettier  than  any 
of  those  false  crimps." 

"  Yes.  I  see  that  perfectly,"  replied  the  man,  survey 
ing  the  golden  crinkling  cloud  which  Monny's  own  hair 
made  at  this  moment  over  her  brow. 

"  So,  of  course,"  the  maid  went  on,  much  too  abs<  xbed 
in  the  general  argument  to  note  an}7  complimentary  per 
sonal  allusions,  "if  you  are  going  to  a  party  in  the 
evening,  you  wish  to  save  your  own  crimps  fresh  for  that 
occasion.  And  it  would  be  truly  silly  to  shut  yourself 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  199 

up  till  evening,  and  still  worse  to  show  yourself,  even 
al>out  your  own  house,  not  fit  to  be  seen,  in  crimping- 
pins." 

"•Certainly,"  responded  the  auditor,  with  the  gravity 
which  he  felt  to  be  expected  of  him. 

44  So  you  have  a  false  frisette,  and  you  put  that  on  in 
the  morning,  right  over  your  crimping-pins,  with  a  little 
ribbon  or  a  braid ;  and  there  you  arc,  all  nice  for  the 
whole  day,  and  your  own  hair  snug  underneath  in  crimps, 
ready  to  be  taken  down  for  the  evening.  I  mean  all  this, 
of  course,  when  the  weather  is  moist,  which  takes  out 
most  crimps,  except  the  false  ones.  Then,  some  of  the 
girls,"  added  this  expositor,  wishing  to  make  an  exhaus 
tive  review  of  her  subject,  "  have  a  rainy-day  hat,  with 
false  frizzes  sewed  round  inside  the  brim.  But  I  think 
that  is  a  little  too  barefaced ;  because,  if  your  hat  should 
happen  to  blow  off,  it  would  give  men  a  chance  to 
laugh." 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  the  present  representative  of  that 
sex,  exploding  with  laughter,  as  Monny's  revelations  at 
this  point,  and  especially  the  air  of  serious  reasoning  with 
which  they  were  made,  became  too  much  for  him. 

4 'Do  you  dislike  these  things  very  much?"  asked  the 
girl,  still  solicitously,  of  the  amused  man. 

u  On  the  contrary.  Their  utility  has  been  so  ably 
argued  to  me,  that  I  think  of  buying  one  of  tJtese  things, 
to  begin  small,  for  myself,"  declared  Mr.  Leigh,  holding 
up  the  imponderable  bit  of  frisette.  "I  think  the  kind 
that  is  sewed  inside  the  hat  will  be  the  most  convenient 
arrangement  for  me.  Since  you  do  not  wear  this,  can 
you  not  lend  it  to  me,  to  show  in  the  shops  as  a  sample 
of  the  goods  I  want  V ' ' 

All  lovers  will  talk  some  nonsense  which  sounds  not 
very  brilliant  in  the  repeating ;  and  these  nonsensical 


200  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

words  of  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  were  merely  uttered  as  a 
cover  to  his  serious  intent  of  retaining  the  article  whicn  he 
had  vilified  as  a  "miserable  string,"  the  same  suddenly 
striking  him  as  a  precious  keepsake,  since  it  belonged  to 
Monny.  "  You  really  have  no  use  for  it?  "  he  repeated. 

"No,"  replied  Monny,  the  smile  which  had  gleamed 
across  her  face  at  the  fancy  of  a  row  of  frisette  curls 
bobbing  round  Mr.  Leigh's  manly  brows,  becoming  a 
little  bashful,  as  she  said,  il  But  I  had  some  crimping- 
pins  in  this  morning  my  own  self,  and  the  switch  worn 
forward,  in  a  coronet  braid,  to  hide  them.  That  is  one 
use  for  switches  ;  and  then  I  wear  mine  in  other  ways. 
I  really  wear  it  very  often  when  I  braid  up  my  hair." 

Here,  certainly,  was  an  excellent  opportunity  for  the 
minister  to  exhort  the  young  lady,  over  whom  he  had  so 
much  influence  at  present,  to  set  an  example  to  her  insane 
sex  by  wearing  her  hair  au  naturel  thenceforth.  But 
probably  he  was  in  that  state  of  mind  about  Monny,  that 
her  veriest  follies  were  charming  to  him ;  or  it  may  be 
that  he  had  secretly  found  a  very  sweet  young  dignity  in 
the  air  of  Monny 's  head  with  all  that  pufling-up  of  its 
beautiful  hair,  made  by  the  crhnping-pins  and  the  skilful 
placing  of  the  high-topped  comb  (the  Fijian  style  in  its 
worst  enormity  was  really  capable  of  being  made  a  grace 
by  some  women,  and  that  was  what  kept  it  going). 

Certain  it  was  that  he  still  smiled  so  tolerantly  at  all 
these  confessions,  that  the  maiden  added,  with  her  abid 
ing  desire  to  show  her  sex  in  a  fair  light,  "  And  many  of 
the  girls  have  switches  of  their  real  own  hair.  I  mean 
hair  cut  from  their  very  own  heads." 

"But  this  is  not  such?"  returned  the  man,  who  was 
attaining  to  such  critical  judgment  in  switches  as  to  per 
ceive  that  the  hair  in  his  hand  was  scarcely  of  so  fine  a 
fibre  as  Monny 's  own  soft  locks. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  201 

u  No :  that  was  bought  in  a  store/'  replied  the  girl. 
" 1  have  never  had  my  hair  cut  off  at  its  full  length  but 
once  ;  and  then  —  it  was  lost,"  she  added  hastily. 

"Lost!  And  can  it  not  be  found?"  involuntarily 
asked  the  lover,  feeling  as  if  priceless  treasure  had  beer, 
cast  aw  a}'. 

"Oh,  no,  no!  it  was  lost — in  a  trunk.     I  was  travel 
ling,"  replied  Monny  still  more  hastily.     And  with  these 
words  a  sudden  and  most  extraordinary  blush  flamed  over 
her  face. 

Slight  little  blushes  had  touched  this  sensitive  face 
before  during  the  present  interview,  as  some  bashful 
feeling  would  come  to  the  girl  that  she  was  pursuing  a 
very  ridiculous  subject  of  conversation  with  an  intel 
lectual  man  ;  but  those  soft  fluctuations  of  color  were 
not  like  this  mysterious  rushing  red  that  so  suddenly  lit 
her  cheeks  to  fire. 

The  very  color  was  scarce  to  be  forgotten.  Any  eye 
that  saw  for  the  first  time  Monny's  translucent  com 
plexion  kindle  with  one  of  her  infrequent,  intense  blushes 
would  be  struck  by  the  mere  hue :  it  was  the  rose  of  the 
auroral  lights,  of  sunset  clouds.  One  involuntarily  thought 
of  those  skyey  tints.  No  color  of  any  flower  that  blooms 
out  of  earthly  soil  seemed  vivid  enough  to  compare  to  that 
bright,  rushing  blood. 

It  paled  in  a  moment,  but  then  came  pulsing  back  again  ; 
and  the  embarrassed  girl,  rising  up  abruptly,  retook  her 
switch  from  Mr.  Leigh,  and,  saying '"  I  must  go  do  up  my 
hair  again,"  fled  confusedly  out  of  the  room. 

What  had  startled  her  so?  Maidenly  shyness  at  sitting 
theie  any  longer  in  her  tumbled  hair,  a  sudden  access 
of  personal  consciousness  in  the  midst  of  that  naive  ab 
straction  with  which  she  was  arguing  the  case  of  "the 
girls  "  ?  Kenyon  Leigh's  musings  on  that  bright,  burning 


202  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

blush,  that  hasty  flight,  probably  did  not  go  back  of  some 
such  thought  as  this  —  not  now.  But  a  severer  analyst 
than  a  lover  would  have  recognized  that  Monny's  em 
barrassment  was  scarce  to  be  accounted  for  by  any  cause 
of  the  moment:  it  was  an  agitation  too  unlike  herself. 
For  beneath  all  her  sensitiveness,  her  swift-changing 
moods,  there  was  some  quality  of  repose  in  the  girl  very 
nnwont  to  be  shaken  into  such  a  loss  of  self-possession  as 
had  marked  her  last  fluttering  exit  from  the  room. 

The  desolated  man  left  alone  in  the  study  could  only 
realize,  as  he  instinctively  did,  that  this  time  Monny  would 
not  return.  She  did  not.  He  had  to  gather  up  his  bait 
of  curiosities  for  another  day.  Nevertheless  he  felt  that 
much  remained  to  him  from  this  intercourse — for  one 
thing,  the  rainy-day  friz.  Consider  the  condition  of  a 
lover  when  he  cherishes  tenderly  the  charmer's  false  hair  \ 
when  he  hunts  through  all  his  possessions  disconsolate 
at  finding  nothing  quite  choice  and  delicate  enough  to 
wrap  the  treasure  in. 

In  the  midst  of  this  affecting  spectacle  of  devotion 
which  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  now  presents  we  must 
pause  to  affirm  that  the  present  chapter  is  not  intended 
to  stimulate  the  trade  in  false  hair,  —  Heaven  forbid  ! 
Undoubtedly  the  Fijian  style  of  hair-dressing  conduced 
neither  to  the  general  health  of  woman,  nor  to  the  natural 
growth  of  her  scalp  ;  nevertheless,  in  its  worst  rage,  total 
baldness  at  twenty-one  was  not  a  common  condition,  even 
among  fashionable  young  ladies,  although  this  might  we-1 
be  inferred  from  the  Jeremiades  of  our  day  on  woman's 
folly,  some  echoes  of  which  had,  doubtless,  blindly  lodged 
in  the  brain  of  the  inexperienced  minister.  All  the  folly 
he  found,  however,  in  Monny's  account  of  the  girlish 
artifices  of  lior  mates,  probably  struck  him  as  folly  which 
had  an  extremely  innocent  side,  —  a  discovery  which  Te 


A  IU:YL-:KEND  IDOL.  203 

think  some  women  of  the  day  who  are  so  seveie  on  their 
sex  would  do  well  to  make. 

It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  be  pretty  and  to  be  eighteen : 
and.  when  that  short-lived  pleasure  is  over,  it  would  seem 
thnt  some  memory  of  it  should  remain  to  the  woman  to 
soften  her  judgment  of  the  girls,  even  in  their  little  vani 
ties,  —  their  wish  to  be  prettier  every  minute  of  their  lives 
than  it  is  at  all  necessary  to  be.  There  is  a  very  innocent 
side  to  this  folly ;  and  how  briefly  lasts,  as  a  rule,  all  of  it 
that  can  really  be  called  folly  ! 

That  young  defender  of  the  girls,  who  was  still  one  of 
them,  had  evidently  quite  forgotten  her  hair  now,  in  some 
mysterious  memories  which  her  talk  on  that  unique  sub 
ject  with  Mr.  Leigh  had  strangely  evoked.  Dropping  her 
switch  absently  on  the  toilet-table  of  her  chamber,  whither 
she  had  so  swiftly  gone  from  the  minister's  study,  she 
stood,  with  her  unbound  curls  falling  round  her,  lost  to 
every  thing  but  those  silent  reminiscences  which  still,  in 
the  solitude  of  her  own  room,  sent  the  blushes  to  her 
cheeks.  Presently  she  moved  towards  the  door  connecting 
her  two  apartments,  and  went  into  her  studio,  walking 
slowly,  and  still  with  that  brooding,  abstracted  gaze  as  of 
one  who  recalls,  detail  by  detail,  something  long  forgotten. 
By  that  table  against  the  wall,  piled  with  folios,  she  paused, 
and  took  from  among  them  that  same  collection  of  her 
old  school-studies  which  Mr.  Leigh  had  looked  over  the 
first  time  he  had  ever  been  in  that  room.  What  she 
sought  was  the  picture  in  oils  which  he  had  called  4  i  the 
handsome  young  cabalkro."  It  was  soon  found,  and  a 
curiously  troubled  glance  the  girl  now  bestowed  on  it. 
All  that  unruffled  calm  with  which  she  had  seen  the  picture 
in  Mr.  Leigh's  hand  on  the  gone-by  morning  was  broken 
up.  Yet  tLiis  trouble  in  her  face  seemed  scarce  of  regret, 
DO  pain  of  loss  ;  only  the  same  confused,  bashful,  blushing 


204  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

distress  which  had  so  overcome  her  when  she  hastened 
out  just  now  from  Mr.  Leigh's  presence. 

She  laid  down  the  picture,  and  began  a  search  through 
all  the  drawings  dating  back  to  her  school-days  :  she  was 
examining  if  any  other  sketch  of  that  same  face  was 
among  them.  None  was  found ;  and,  laying  the  folios 
back  in  their  place,  she  took  up  again  the  picture  of  the 
superbly  handsome  youth.  Not  stealthily,  but  very  quiet 
ly, —  her  agitation  had  calmed  in  these  moments,  —  she 
carried  it  towards  the  old-fashioned  fireplace  in  the  room. 
On  its  hearth  some  new  impulse  seemed  to  arrest  her  for 
a  moment,  drawing  her  across  the  room,  the  painted 
board  still  in  her  hand,  to  an  easel  which  stood  by  a 
window  in  the  most  favorable  lights  for  working.  A  new 
canvas  was  on  the  easel,  the  colors  still  wet  upon  it. 
The  picture  portrayed  a  single  powerful  figure  in  the 
garb  of  a  Knight-Templar :  it  was  painted  life-size,  and 
about  half-length.  A  certain  card-photograph,  which  the 
artist  ha(J  possessed  herself  of  unknown  to  its  owner,  was 
pinned  up  on  the  easel :  the  knightly  painting  on  the  can 
vas  had  the  face  of  the  photograph.  The  mediaeval  armor 
of  the  figure  was  evidently  being  copied  from  some  old 
engravings  that  were  lying  about. 

With  a  shy,  mysterious  movement  that  seemed  stirred 
by  the  picture  on  the  easel  rather  than  by  the  one  in  her 
hand,  the  girl  slowly  lifted  the  latter,  holding  it  at  arm's- 
length,  approaching  it  to  the  other  picture,  not  too  near, 
but  still  with  a  survey  that  evidently  compared  the  two 
faces.  And  ever  such  a  strange,  triumphing  tenderness 
grew  in  those  alternate  glances  as  they  sought  the  face  on 
the  easel,  as  they  lingered  on  it  last  and  long. 

Was  it  the  artist  that  rejoiced  so  with  that  mysterious, 
wondrous  joy  which  seemed  trembling  at  itself?  Cer 
tainly  tfce  progress  marked  by  the  two  pieces  of  work  was 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  205 

immense.  Modelled  from  the  beginning  was  the  unfin 
ished  face  on  the  easel  with  some  power  of  handling  that 
nothing  else  of  all  Monny's  work  approached.  The  like 
ness  was  already  a  living  one  ;  but,  for  that  matter,  so  was 
the  likeness  of  the  face  she  held  in  her  hand,  —  a  face 
she  had  painted  before  she  was  seventeen.  Even  in  those 
years  Monny  could  seize  a  likeness.  This  latter  likeness 
she  earned  back  now  to  the  fireplace,  and  laid  it  between 
the  old-fashioned  andirons.  There  was  a  box  on  the 
hearth  filled 'with  the  dried  pine-needles  which  the  little 
Capo-Cod  boys  bring  round  in  bags,  and  sell  at  the  door 
for  Kindlings. 

Monny  was  a  vast  patron  of  pine-needles,  as  well  as  of 
various  other  staples  of  small-boy  traders,  for  which  she 
had  no  very  urgent  use.  The  pine-needles  had  a  use 
now :'  heaping  them  high  on  the  hearth,  she  applied  a 
lighted  match  to  the  pile,  and  in  this  aromatic  blaze  the 
picture  of  the  handsome  youth  went  up. 


206  A  REVEKEND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER 


rMHAT  new  picture  on  the  easel  absorbed  Monny  as  no 
-J-  work  had  ever  done  before.  Her  studio  became  an 
absolutely  interdicted  place  to  all  mortals  but  herself.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  recent  passing  of  this  decree,  banishing 
Mr.  Leigh  from  her  room,  which  had  added  stimulus  to 
his  ingenious  efforts  to  draw  the  maiden  into  his  own 
room,  as  exemplified  in  the  last  chapter.  She  grew  so 
miserly,  however,  of  her  time  now,  few  and  short  were 
the  visits  that  he  could  secure  from  her  there  or  elsewhere  : 
in  fact,  meal-times  were  about,  the  only  times  at  present 
that  he  had  for  seeing  the  young  lady. 

41  Can  we  not  even  know  the  subject  of  this  extraordi 
nary  picture?  "  he  asked  one  day,  going  with  Monny  up 
the  front  stairs  after  dinner,  and  managing  to  delay  her  a 
moment  in  the  upper  entry  before  she  unlocked  her  studio- 
door,  to  disappear  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 

"  It  is  a  —  battle-piece.  I  have  not  painted  a  battle- 
piece  before  since  the  lunacies  of  my  first  works.  There 
were  some  marvellous  battle-pieces  among  those.  The 
carnage  was  dreadful." 

44  This  time,  the  life-blood  spilt  will  be  that  of  the 
artist,"  said  the  lover.  "I  have  seen  her  growing  pale 
every  day  since  this  murderous  work  began." 

"It  is  such  a  strain,"  replied  Monny,  with  a  deep  sigh 
of  affected  exhaustion,  "to  imagine  heroes  in  this  poor, 
degenerate  era  !  So  far,  far  back,  I  have  to  look  for  them 
—  way  back  into  the  middle  ages  !  One  must  needs  grow 


A    REVEREND    IDOL.  207 

pale  with  such  an  effort,"  said  the  girl,  her  secret  heart 
thrilling  with  a  thought  how  opposite  from  the  words  her 
mischievous  lips  spoke. 

1 '  But  you  must  be  obliged  to  borrow,  even  out  of  this 
miserable  age,  models  for  the  corporeal  outlines  of  those 
heroes.  I  do  not  hear  them  coming  up  stairs  to  the 
studio,  —  neither  the  soldiers  nor  the  steeds.  How  do 
you  study  the  grouping  of  your  figures?  " 

"  There  is  no  group,  not  a  steed.  It  is  a  battle-piece 
of  —  one." 

**  Oh  !    Is  the  warrior  falling  on  his  own  sword?  " 

"  Never !  never !     He  is  not  the  warrior  to  do  that." 

"Will  he  do  the  deed  and  repeut  it?  —  he  had  better  never  been 
born. 

Will  lie  do  the  deed,  and  exalt  it?  —  then  his  fame  shall  be  out 
worn: 

He  shall  do  the  deed,  and  abide  it,  and  sit  on  his  throne  on 
high, 

And  look  on  to-day  and  to-morrow  as  those  that  never  die.'* 

As  the  lover  stood  in  admiring  amaze  at  the  sudden 
burst  of  dramatic  fire  with  which  these  lines  were  recited, 
the  girlish  voice  thrilling  rich  and  resonant  with  such  a 
depth  and  compass  of  tones  as  one  would  scarce  have 
imagined  it  to  possess,  Monny  turned  in  its  lock  the  key 
on  which  her  hand  rested,  and  in  a  second  she  had  passed 
through  the  door,  having  opened  it  narrowly  as  possible. 
From  within  showed  only  the  half  of  her  tantalizing  face 
as  she  peeped  back  through  the  crack  to  say  wickedly,  — 

4 'It  is  time  now  for  that  afternoon  slumber  of  mine 
The  feeble-minded  must  have  naps,  —  naps  five  hours  long, 
by  daylight." 

Wherewith  swiftly  clashed  the  door,  and  clicked  the 
little  bolt  in  its  lock  ;  and  the  man  was  left  speechless 
without,  wondering  what  other  of  his  base  misconceptions 


208  A   KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

of  Monny  in  the  past  the  witch  had  found  out,  and  stoied 
up  in  remembrance  against  him. 

Bitterness  was  no  longer  in  these  remembrances.  In 
fact,  from  the  very  brokenness  of  the  moments  in  which 
any  speech  could  now  be  seized  with  Monuy,  the  na'vete 
with  which  her  admirer  openly  laid  in  wait  for  these  scraps 
of  intercourse,  the  pretexts  with  which  the  engrossed 
a:  list  put  him  off,  —  from  all  this  there  grew  an  infor 
mality  of  talk  between  the  pair  in  which  their  acquaint 
ance  certainly  went  not  backward,  although  the  long  talks 
were  suspended.  All  the  sportive  side  of  the  girl's  char 
acter  began  to  come  out,  unafraid,  during  these  days,  in  a 
thousand  espiegleries,  caprices,  as  native  to  her  as  the 
foan~  i?  to  the  wave  ;  and  in  this  dancing  temperament,  as 
in  the  serious  young  soul  beneath  it,  Monny  Rivers  was 
created  to  be  a  perpetual  charm  and  benison  to  Kenyon 
Leigh. 

In  many  ways  his  life  had  been  lived  at  an  intense,  too 
intense,  a  strain.  It  is  not  the  radical,  hurling  his  axe 
unquestioningly  at  the  root  of  every  tree  of  abuse,  who 
really  wears  himself  out,  but  the  man  who  has  at  once 
the  radical  hatred  of  what  is  wrong  in  society,  and  the 
conservative  vision  of  all  the  long  and  slow  gathered  good 
liable  to  be  uptorn  in  exterminating  the  evil.  Men  of 
this  balance  of  mind,  especially  when  they  are  men  of 
such  poetic  sensibility  as  was  Kenyon  Leigh,  are  probably 
wont,  as  a  rule,  to  spend  their  lives  rather  in  eloquent 
exposition  of  the  world's  disorders  than  in  any  active, 
practical  attempts  to  right  them.  Especially  are  they 
unlikely  to  choose  a  pulpit  as  the  standing-place  from 
which  to  right  them,  at  least  in  the  present  age.  This 
minister,  perhaps,  never  preached  in  his  great  cit}T  church, 
when,  in  the  varied  crowd  that  filled  it,  there  were  not 
men  who  came  there,  drawn  by  very  wonder  to  see  this 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  209 

man,  so  simple,  calm,  and  strong,  stand  up,  and  with  his 
most  luminous,  instructed  mind,  rest  all  that  he  had  to 
say  of  life  and  death  on  those  old  hallucinations  of  a 
crucified  Jew.  He  was  sincere,  as  we  have  said,  in  this 
simple  faith  of  his :  nevertheless,  to  him,  as  to  another, 
existence  was  full  of  burning,  unsolved  questions.  He 
was  a  man  who  could  not  live  without  some  theoretic  larg<*- 
ness  of  belief  in  life,  could  not  be  satisfied  with  dabbling, 
however  diligently,  in  any  mere  surface  of  the  stream  of 
human  evils  ;  and  he  saw  too  well  how  elusive  were  all  the 
r^al  sources  of  that  stream  to  have  the  self-complacency  in 
his  toils  which  comforts  more  shallow  men.  His  mental 
traits  would  never  be  altered,  and  it  was  not  in  his  char 
acter  to  slacken  any  of  his  manifold  labors.  Such  spirits 
cannot  ease  themselves  by  throwing  down  any  of  those 
burdens  of  humanity  which  they  are  framed  to  bear  with 
so  vicarious  a  pain  :  a  great  counterpoise  of  happiness  is 
the  only  balance  which  will  save  even  the  strongest  of 
them  from  some  morbidness  at  last. 

This  most  unimagined  deliverance  had  come  of  late  to 
Kenyon  Leigh  :  he  had  not  laid  down  any  thing  of  the  old, 
but  lie  had  taken  up  something  strangely  new.  Yes  :  while 
it  would  be  a  very  inadequate  stating  of  the  case  to  say 
that  he  had  had  a  long  lit  of  the  blues,  which,  falling  in 
love,  he  had  forgotten,  it  was  still  true,  that,  in  this  great 
experience  of  the  man,  the  minister  had  got  his  new  start. 
Certainly  sermons  did  not  progress  much  just  now  ;  but 
the  influence  which  was  at  present  a  <listraction  from  all 
work  prophesied  of  a  future  when  it  would  be  a  stimulus 
to  work  wonderful  and  new  with  all  the  wonder  and  new 
ness  with  which  life  was  opening  to  Kenyon  L<jigh  in 
these  days,  which  had  now  begun  to  thrill  with  a  hope 
that  Monny  might  be  his. 

So,  since  the  minister  had  got  at  last  his  vacation  just 


210  A  EEVEREND   IDOL. 

as  he  bad  given  it  up,  a  respite  from  all  the  jarring  grind 
of  life  in  a  burst  of  the  music  of  the  spheres,  we  trust 
the  severest  censor  of  ministerial  vacations  will  forgive 
him  for  wanting  a  little  more  of  it.  For  about  this  time 
he  went  to  New  York  to  arrange  for  just  a  small  piece 
more  of  holiday.  He  was  really  only  proposing  to  extend 
his  vacation  to  its  original  limit,  an  early  date  in  October, 
which  had  been  fixed  for  his  return  when  he  went  on  his 
late  foreign  tour.  But,  when  he  had  landed  at  New  York 
in  the  summer,  he  had  informed  his  church-wardens,  or 
whomever  he  had  to  inform,  that  he  should  take  his  pulpit 
again  a  month  earlier  than  he  had  been  expected  to, 
intending  then  to  spend  only  a  few  weeks  at  Cape  Cod. 
But,  since  Cape  Cod  had  become  the  centre  of  the  world 
to  him,  he  now  wished  to  claim  again  his  original  grant  of 
vacation.  And  since  this  was  the  first  time  in  his  mortal 
career  that  he  had  ever  taken  one  day's  vacation  on  a 
lady's  account,  and  as  choosing  a  wife  is  usually  allowed 
to  be  an  affair  of  moment,  especially  to  a  clergyman, 
we  repeat  our  entreaty  that  the  hero  be  not  denounced 
as  a  hireling  shepherd  for  being  just  this  once  a  laggard 
at  his  post.  It  was  really  almost  impossible  for  him  to 
ask  Monny  formally  to  marry  him  just  yet,  for  want  of 
a  chance  to  see  her  long  enough  in  the  privacy  which 
such  questions  demand,  because  of  that  terrible  battle- 
piece  of  one  which  kept  her  so  invisible.  But,  as  she 
had  begun  to  throw  out  hints  that  it  was  growing  towards 
completion,  there  were  hopes  of  days  beyond  more  propi 
tious  for  declarations,  if  the  suitor  could  be  on  the  spot. 
He  could  not  think  of  leaving  the  spot.  So  he  went  to 
New  York  to  arrange  about  the  supplies  for  his  pulpit. 
When  this  business  was  despatched,  he  would  not  leave 
the  city,  of  course,  without  attending  to  one  of  those  little 
lites  with  wlrch  courtships,  by  civilized  man  and  by  sav- 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  211 

age,  have,  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  been  carried  on.  He 
wished  to  make  Monny  a  present.  What  should  it  be  ? 

The  solicitude  with  which  the  present  suitor  pondered 
this  question  language  cannot  describe.  Was  it  treasures 
in  the  way  of  literature  or  art  that  he  thought  of  for  this 
oblatioii?  Not  at  all.  Something  of  fresh  or  rare  in  these 
lines  he  would  take  back  to  Monny  from  the  metropolis  as 
a  matter  of  course.  But  if  he  had  had  the  markets  of  th* 
world  to  choose  from  in  books,  or  objects  of  art,  or  vertu, 
not  in  these  would  have  been  the  gift  to  the  maiden  that 
his  soul  was  set  on.  TJie  gift  must  be  something  to  — 
wear.  Monny  could  not  help  knowing  how  he  admired 
her  genius  and  her  sense,  but  did  she  know  how  he  doted 
on  her  clothes  ?  She  read  largely  the  same  books  that  he 
read  :  nothing  would  be  easier  now  (however  it  was  a  few 
weeks  ago)  than  to  select  books  for  Monny.  But  to  give 
her  something  most  exquisitely  difficult  to  select,  most 
absolutely  feminine,  to  suit  her  taste  where  it  was  so 
subtly  delicate  a  matter  to  suit  it,  that  only  a  lover  of  the 
last  devotion,  the  most  appreciative  worship  of  every 
refinement  of  her  being,  could  possibly  succeed  in  the 
feat,  — this  was  the  man's  dear  ambition. 

Jewelry  he  set  aside  at  once.  In  the  first  place,  he  did 
recall  so  much  of  the  conventional  etiquette  in  these 
things  as  to  have  a  notion  that  very  costly  presents  from 
a  gentleman  to  a  lady  who  was  not  formally  betrothed  to 
him  would  be  a  little  premature,  have  some  air  of  antici- 
pator}r  reliance  on  her  favor,  an  audacity  of  presump 
tion  that  he  would  shudder  to  be  guilty  of.  Then  jewels 
he  would  have  to  depend  on  a  shopman  to  tell  him  the 
intrinsic  worth  of ;  they  could  not  be  his  own  sole  selec 
tion  :  there  would  be  an  utter  spoiling  of  his  idea.  No, 
the  something  to  wear  must  not  only  be  something  of  his 
very  personal  choice,  but  it  must  be  most  personally  fitted 


212  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

to  Monny ;  not  a  necklace  or  a  brooch  that  any  woman 
could  wear. 

Well,  at  last,  as  the  very  acme  of  all  that  was  most 
baffling  in  the  feminine  toilet,  he  bethought  himself  of 
those  objects  which  women  wear  on  their  heads,  called 
hats  and  bonnets ;  those  things  which  now  they  tilted 
over  their  noses,  and  anon  perched  precarious  afar  on  the 
farthest  reaches  of  their  back  hair  ;  which  this  season  were 
all  buttoned  up  askew  over  one  ear,  and  presto  !  the  next 
season,  all  peeled  up  on  the  other — the  lovely  method 
that  he  began  to  discern  in  this'  madness  !  A  hat,  a  new 
hat,  was  what  he  would  buy  for  Monuy.  He  trembled  at 
his  own  daring ;  but  still,  when,  after  their  long  circling 
round,  his  thoughts  had  once  alighted  on  that  form  of 
present,  they  clung  to  it  as  to  no  other. 

Behold  our  hero,  then,  in  a  milliner's  shop.  By  what 
process  of  inquiry  he  arrived  at  that  precise  depot  of 

elegance,  the  millinery  parlors  of  Madame  ,  most 

recherche  of  all  New -York  milliners,  he  got  there.  Also 
he  got  in,  although  the  establishment  was  as  good  as 
closed  at  present ;  all  its  hands  being  secluded  in  some 
invisible  work-rooms,  preparing  for  the  fall  openings, 
which  would  not  occur  until  Madame 's  polite  class  of 

patrons  should  be  returned  to  the  city.  Madame 

herself  would  doubtless  have  recognized  at  once  the  very 
widely  known  person  of  the  rector  of  St.  Ancient's,  where 
so  many  of  her  bonnets  went  to  church  ;  but  that  milliner 
was  much  too  elegant  a  being  to  be  yet  permanently 

returned  to  town  herself.  However,  Mrs. ,  her  chief 

deputy  milliner,  who  reigned  in  her  absence,  although  she 
did  not  know  who  the  stranger  was,  having  come  to  New 
York  herself  only  within  the  year,  could  not  resist  this 
imposing  figure  of  a  gentleman  so  devotedly  bent  on 
buying  a  bonnet  for  a  lady  out  of  town.  So  the  Re* 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  213 

Kenyon  Leigh  was  honored  with  a  distinction  to  which  no 

patron  of   Madame  had   ever  before   attained,  —  a 

grand  opening  was  made  solely  for  himself. 

liehold  him,  then,  in  the  centre  of  the  chief  millinery 
parlor,  —  a  long  salon  curiously  mixed  of  shop  and  draw 
ing- room,  but  now  in  so  dismantled  a  state  that  not  much 
was  to  be  seen  in  it  beyond  a  forest  of  empty  little  stands 
of  wire.  This  forest,  however,  was  soon  made  to  blossom 
utterly  beyond  the  rose,  as  the  milliner  took  from  great 
cavernous  drawers  which  were  let  into  walls  and  tables  in 

all  directions,  the  choicest  of  Madame 's  new  trimmed 

hats  and  bonnets,  hiding  their  richness  there  until  the  fall 
openings. 

These  head-pieces  were  so  infinitely  more  incomprehen 
sible  as  they  nodded  at  him  from  the  bodiless  wire  stands 
than  they  had  ever  been  coming  into  church  as  the  apex 
of  a  fine  lady,  the  minister  began  to  realize  all  the  magni 
tude  of  his  undertaking :  the  sweat  stood  on  his  brow. 

"Was  it  to  be  a  hat  for  driving,  opera,  church?" 
asked  the  milliner. 

He  should  like  a  hat  that  could  be  worn  to  church. 
u  But  still  a  handsome  hat,"  quickly  added  this  back 
slidden  Tertullian,  forgetful  of  the  rigid  plainness  with 
which  women  should  be  attired  at  church. 

44  Was  the  hat  wanted  for  immediate  wear?"  asked 
Mrs. . 

"He  should  like  it  to  be  worn  right  away,"  the  cus 
tomer  said,  thinking  of  next  Sunday,  and  the  little  Ortho 
dox  meeting-house  of  Lonewater. 

The  milliner  made  a  rapid  shifting  of  the  wire  stands, 
massing  directly  in  front  of  the  gentleman  all  the  head- 
coverings  most  suited  to  this  precise  turning-time  of  the 
seasons,  opening  new  drawers,  and  adding  more  hats  to 
the  collection. 


214  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

The  gaze  with  which  the  man  surveyed  this  collection 
was  curiously  unlike  the  masculine  blankntss  of  gaze  to 
be  expected.  It  was  a  look,  which,  while  touchingly 
helpless,  was  withal  so  critical,  such  an  unhappy  shadow 
in  the  eyes  that  went  wandering  over  the  ekefs-d' ceuvres  of 

Madame as  of  a  being  haunted  by  an  ideal  dream 

of  beauty  in  the  shape  of  a  hat  utterly  unfound  there,  — 
this  was  really  a  variety  of  the  nil  admirari  air  to  stir 
both  the  pride  of  the  milliner  and  the  sympathy  of  the 
woman.  She  stood  silently  conjecturing  what  was  the 
probable  personal  style  of  the  destined  wearer  of  that 
hat.  Her  first  notion,  of  some  stately  queen  of  society, 
who  could  carry  off  a  great  deal  of  bonnet,  began  to  be 
displaced  by  the  wiser  second  tliought,  that  if  the  case 
was  of  a  veritable  grande  passion,  as  clearly  it  was,  then, 
of  course,  it  was  a  case  of  the  attraction  of  opposites. 
The  lady  whom  this  tallest  of  men  had  fallen  in  love  with 
would  not  be  tall :  no,  if  she  was  not  absolutely  petite,  it 
would  be  a  mercy. 

Well,  that  mercy  had  been  vouchsafed.  Monny  was 
not  petite,  still  she  would  not  have  been  called  a  tall 
young  woman :  so  the  milliner  was  really  approximating 
to  some  correct  notion  of  the  figure  of  the  unknown. 
Whether  along  with  this  new  notion  came  an  idea  of  girl- 
ishness,  she  ventured  to  inquire,  — 

"  Is  the  lady  very  young  and  ?  "  — 

44  Very  young  and  beautiful,"  replied  the  admirer,  with 
the  promptest  decision. 

44  Ah  !  Then  she  can  wear  the  most  trying  things.  The 
simplest  hats  are  really  much  the  most  trying,"  said  the 
milliner,  who  understood  her  business.  44  Nothing  so  sets 
off  the  face  that  can  bear  it  as  a  hat  of  a  certain  striking 
and  elegant  simplicity.  But  only  an  absolutely  fresh  face 
can  venture  on  those  things,"  declared  Mrs. ,  turning 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  215 

to  some  drawers  where  were  stored  against  the  coming 
winter  opera  hats  for  the  young  beauties  in  their  first 
season. 

"Elegant  simplicity;  that  is  precisely  the  lady's  style 
of  dress,"  said  the  customer,  eagerly  catching  at  the  word, 
and  beginning  to  follow  the  milliner  all  round  the  room, 
opening  the  drawers  for  her. 

If  any  one  fancies  that  the  transaction  in  which  the 
Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  was  now  engaged  was  one  in  which 
that  vein  of  shyness  which  still  somewhat  inhered  in  him 
would  at  all  appear,  nothing  could  be  a  greater  miscon 
ception.  To  see  nothing  at  all  but  his  object,  when  that 
object  was  a  great  one,  was  a  marked  characteristic  of 
this  man  ;  and  the  wholly  unembarrassed  and  absorbingly 
earnest  quest  with  which  his  own  eyes  searched  the 
drawers  (he  could  look  into  them  right  over  the  milli 
ner's  head),  and  the  perfectly  pellucid  candor  with  which 
he  gave  any  information  about  his  lady-love  that  could 
facilitate  the  finding  of  her  affinity  of  a  bonnet,  —  these 
things  made  the  milliner  more  and  more  ready  to  ravage 
the  shop  for  him. 

"  Blue,  I  think  you  mentioned  as  a  favorite  color  with 
the  lady,  and  that  her  complexion  was  fair?  "  interrogated 
Mrs. . 

44  Most  exceedingly  fair,"  declared  the  admirer. 

They  were  looking  into  a  drawer  now  whose  hats  cer 
tainly  only  the  exceedingly  fair  could  afford  to  put  on. 
Hats  like  a  snowdrift  of  white  velvet,  with  white  plumes, 
and  some  little  knot  or  wreath  of  blue ;  then  pale-blue 
velvets,  white-plumed  and  white-wreathed  among  these 
lovely  head-pieces  was  one  charming  chapeau,  somewhat 
plainer  than  the  rest,  which  the  milliner  dr^w  forth.  It 
was  a  white-chip  hat  of  the  finest  quality,  its  only  trim 
ming  a  very  rich  ostrich-plume  of  the  loveliest  light  blue, 


216  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

sweeping  back  over  the  half-high  crown,  and  a  wreath  of 
convolvulus,  dyed  in  the  solid  color  to  match  the  plume, 
running  along  the  brim  of  the  hat,  which  was  rolled 
smoothly  up,  and  faced  with  black  velvet,  in  a  style 
destined  to  become  very  popular,  but  which  just  then  wag 
entirely  novel  on  this  side  the  water.  The  anxious  eyes 
which  were  looking  over  the  milliner 's  shoulder  saw  at 
once  in  this  hat  something  which  really  looked  like  Mon- 
ny.  Here  were  no  flaps  and  streamers  of  silk  and  lace 
dragging  on  one  side,  and  variegated  bouquets  bunching 
on  the  other,  with  birds  roosting  around  promiscuously, 
as  in  the  compositions  which  the  milliner  had  shown  him 
in  her  first  idea  of  the  lady  who  could  carry  off  so  much 

bonnet.     Mrs. perceiving,  with  but  a  glance  at  her 

customer,  that  she  had  found  the  right  thing  at  last, 
began  to  explain  to  the  neophyte,  that,  this  hat  being  of 
chip,  it  was  entirely  suitable  to  be  worn  to  church ;  that 
the  delicate  blue  of  the  plume  and  wreath  was  the  most 
choice  of  all  created  shades  of  blue  ;  and  that  the  darken 
ing  touch  imparted  by  the  black  velvet  brim  was  just  the 
touch  appropriate  to  September. 

This  having  in  the  hat  the  very  touch  belonging  to 
September  struck  the  awed  man  as  so  fine  a  felicity,  it 
offset  the  little  anxiety  he  had  felt  lest  the  black-velvet 
brim  added  too  many  colors  to  the  hat ;  for  one  funda 
mental  principle  that  he  had  grasped  in  the  bewitching 
mystery  of  Monny's  toilets  was  that  she  wore  the  very 
fewest  colors  at  a  time.  But  the  milliner,  on  a  hint  of 
this  trouble,  gently  assuring  him  that  a  lady  of  elegant 
tasto  would  be  certain  to  wear  always  a  black  suit  with 
this  particular  hat,  so  the  black- velvet  brim,  instead  of 
introducing  a  new  color,  would  be  only  another  point  of 
harmony  in  her  toilet,  —  with  this  suggestion  his  eased 
mind  was  enabled  fully  to  accept  the  black- velvet  brim. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  217 

So  there  remained  only  a  single  point  of  doubt,  —  an 
ornament  where  the  plume  was  fastened  on,  that  flashed 
with  some  metallic  sharpness  of  glitter  not  quite  sugges 
tive  of  Monny's  style  to  her  admirer. 

44  You  do  not  like  the  aigrette?"  said  Mrs.  ,  as 

he  indicated  this  too-lustrous  object.  u  It  can  be  changed 
f  3r  another  in  a  moment.  Still  this  is  a  very  elegant  one. 
I  sun  not  sure  that  we  have  another  quite  so  choice." 

The  gentleman's  reply  revealed  that  his  thought  was, 
whether  the  hat  could  exist  without  any  spangle  or  bangle 
at  all. 

"  Something  would  have  to  replace  the  aigrette,  if  it 
were  taken  off,"  mildly  pronounced  the  milliner.  A  plain 
velvet  bow,  either  of  black  or  blue,  would  answer,"  she 
said,  and  disappeared  for  a  moment.  Returning  pres 
ently,  she  brought  with  her  bias  strips  of  blue  velvet  and 
of  black,  and,  deftly  twisting  a  knot  of  each,  she  laid 
them  on  the  hat,  each  in  turn,  that  the  gentleman  might 
choose  which  he  preferred. 

41  Put  your  soul  to  it."  He  recalled  Monny's  old  dic 
tum  in  matters  of  the  toilet,  and  was  ready  to  put  his 
soul,  every  immortal  spark  of  it,  to  deciding  whether  that 
bow  should  be  of  black  or  blue.  As  he  stood  thus  con 
centrating  all  the  brains  of  the  Leighs  —  and  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  brains  in  the  family  —  on  those  two  rags  of 
velvet,  I  trust  it  will  be  acknowledged,  in  excuse  of  the 
feminine  world  who  had  so  adored  this  man,  that  he  had 
some  adorable  qualities.  After  a  silent  travail  of  tniod 
over  the  blue  bow,  which  ended  with  the  fear  that  it  \tould 
introduce' an  alien  element,  as  he  could  not  find  any  blue 
velvet  anywhere  else  about  the  hat,  he  begged  the  mil 
liner,  Would  she  please  hold  the  black  bow  on  once  more? 
And  the  milliner  held  it  on.  But  the  black  bow  seemed 
too  black  to  him  ;  until,  lo !  he  actually  originated  an 


218  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

idea.  "Could"  that  kind,"  he  asked,  pointing  to  the 
wreath,  "be  stretched  out,  or  could  some  more  of  it  be 
pieced  on,  so  as  to  wind  over  the  bow,  and  thus  soften 
the  blackness  a  little?  " 

''Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  ,  astonished  at  the 

millinery  genius  of  the  man.  The  spray  was  a  very  rare 
one  :  but  they  had  just  one  duplicate  of  it,  on  another  hat 
of  a  different  style  ;  she  would  take  it  off  at  once,  and  cut 
it  for  this  hat.  So  she  stripped  the  other  hat,  and  twined 
some  more  convolvulus  over  the  black-velvet  bow  as  if  it 
grew  there  ;  and,  behold,  the  thing  was  achieved  at  last, 
—  a  hat  which  was  just  that  marvel  of  quiet  beauty  and 
elegance  which  Monny's  hat  should  be. 

Elated  with  his  success,  the  man  even  dared  a  second 
purchase.  There  were  some  simple  little  garden-hats, 
very  fashionable  this  summer,  made  all  of  white  lawn, 
shaped  by  slender  little  reeds  on  which  the  lawn  was 
puffed.  Seeing  a  half-dozen  of  these  hats  stacked  on  a 
table,  he  remembered  that  Monny  had  worn  such  a  one 
during  his  first  weeks  at  the  Cape,  and  that  one  morning, 
when  he  had  seen  her  go  out  with  this  snowy  head-cover 
ing,  which  he  thought  marvellously  becoming  to  her,  she 
came  home  bareheaded,  the  light  thing  having  blown  off 
her  head  into  the  sea.  He  had  missed  it  ever  since,  and 
now  he  had  a  chance  to  replace  it.  Taking  up  one  of  the 
hats  from  the  table,  he  perceived,  with  his  present  critical 
eye  in  millinery,  that  the  lawn  w?s  not  of  the  finest,  and 
he  asked  the  milliner  if  she  had  other  such  hats,  in  a 
better  quality  of  cloth.  She  replied  that  the  ready-made 
lawn  hats  did  not  come  in  any  finer  material,  but  that 
she  could  have  one  made  to  his  order  in  an  hour  or  two,  in 
the  finest  of  lawn.  And  he  gave  the  order  immediately. 

"  They  sometimes  trimmed  those  garden-hats  very  taste 
fully,"  said  Mrs.  — — ,  "with  flutings  and  bows  of  the 


A    RKVKRKND    IDOL.  219 

lawn,  edged  with  imitation  Valenciennes  lace.  Should 
the  hat  be  made  in  tluit  way?" 

"Certainly,  if  that  was  prettier.  But  he  should  not 
wish  any  thing  of  imitation  about  it."  And  the  milliner 
wrote  down  "  real  Valenciennes  "  on  the  order. 

"  Would  he  have  a  little  colored  ribbon  fluted  round 
under  the  brim,  with  strings  of  the  same?  It  was  an 
addition  ;  and  the  lady  could  easily  take  it  off  if  she  did 
not  like  it.  Should  the  color  of  the  ribbon  be  blue  also 
for  this  hat?" 

The  gentleman  said  that  there  was  a  very  remarkable 
kind  of  purple  sometimes  worn  by  the  lady. 

u  Mauve?"  suggested  the  milliner.  The  man  looked 
helpless  at  that  word,  but  said  he  should  know  the  partic 
ular  purple  if  he  could  see  it.  So  he  was  shown  boxes  of 
ribbons  in  all  imaginable  shades  of  violet  and  lilac ;  and, 
picking  out  his  particular  purple  with  the  slow  but  sure 
sagacity  that  he  had  all  along  displayed,  the  milliner 
approved  it  as  a  very  choice  shade  of  mauve,  and  the 
second  hat  was  settled.  If  we  were  to  mention  the  figure 
paid  for  his  two  purchases,  it  would  be  seen  that  this  was 
one  of  those  lover's  attentions  which  it  were  really  well 
should  cease  after  marriage,  as  Monny  certainly  could  buy 
her  own  bonnets  with  far  less  expenditure  of  money  as 
well  as  of  vital  force.  But  the  milliner,  discerning,  of 
course,  that  the  more  money  the  lover  could  pay  for  his 
lx>nnets,  the  happier  he  would  be,  had  the  benevolence  to 
fix  prices  accordingly ;  and,  paying  her  unconscionable 
bill,  the  purchaser  joyfully  departed,  carrying  with  him 
the  blue-plumed  chip  in  a  bandbox,  and  ordering  the  other 
hat  to  be  sent  to  his  hotel. 

After  this  performance  in  ladies'  shopping,  it  was,  of 
course,  the  easiest  of  tasks  for  the  hero  now  to  buy  a 
dress-pattern  of  the  best  black  silk  for  good  Mistress 


220  A  KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

Doane,  a  gay  striped  shawl  of  the  newest  fall  styles  for 
Susannah,  and,  that  he  might  carry  every  inmate  of  that 
beloved  old  Cape-Cod  house  something  to  wear,  he  wound 
up  with  a  new  collar  for  Duke  George. 

The  morning  having  been  consumed  by  these  pursuits, 
he  next  went  to  lunch  at  his  old  club-house,  having 
oidcred  all  parcels  sent  to  his  hotel,  save  the  bandbox 
c<  ntaiuing  the  hat  arrived  at  with  so  much  toil  and  pains : 
that  previous  possession  never  left  his  hand.  It  chanced 
that  almost  the  first  man  whom  he  met  at  his  club  was  that 
eminent  light  of  the  New- York  medical  profession,  Dr. 
Herophilus.  The  two  not  having  seen  each  other  before 
for  a  year,  they  sat  down  to  table  together ;  and,  as  the 
serious  reader  will  be  glad  to  know,  Mr.  Leigh  forthwith 
toned  up  his  mind,  after  the  enervating  occupations  of  the 
morning,  by  plunging  into  a  vigorous  discussion  of  Euro 
pean  politics,  and  such  other  weighty  matters  of  men's 
discourse. 

Now,  Dr.  Herophilus  was  a  creature  of  learning  and 
skill,  —  a  highly  knowing  member,  in  fact,  of  the  know 
ing  sex.  Why,  then,  should  the  thoughts  of  so  masculine 
a  being  stray  ever  and  anon,  as  they  did,  from  those  large 
themes  which  he  was  discussing  with  his  companion,  into 
certain  curious  little  surmises  about  him  of  the  merest 
personal  sort?  The  truth  was,  that  Mr.  Leigh,  in  various 
ways,  touched  him  with  a  little  sense  of  surprise.  For 
instance,  he  had  supposed  that  his  early  return  from 
abroad  had  been  moved  by  a  characteristic  eagerness  to 
be  at  his  work  again.  But  here  he  was,  in  superb  health, 
as  the  professional  eye  could  see,  yet  coming  up  to  town 
to  put  supplies  in  his  pulpit  that  he  might  stay  summering 
at  Cape  Cod  through  all  the  September  breezes,  which, 
one  would  say,  would  so  in  sweep  somewhat  chill  over 
those  lonely  sands.  Then,  Dr.  Herophiius  did  observe 


A   REV  Eli  END   IDOL.  221 

the  bandbox.  As  a  fartaly-man  he  knew  it  infallibly  for 
what  it  was,  —  a  lady's  bor.net-box. 

To  be  sure,  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  had  been  seen 
before  in  his  life  laden  with  rather  odd  parcels.  Not  that 
he  was  what  is  properly  called  an  eccentric  man :  he  had 
been  reared  as  a  gentleman,  and  ordinarily  he  made  no 
startling  deviations  from  what  are  conventionally  styled 
the  habits  of  gentlemen.  But,  while  he  did  not  paradu 
himself  in  the  vocation  of  express  or  market  man,  he  was 
capable  of  carrying  a  provision-basket  as  unconsciously 
as  another  man  carries  a  cane,  if  in  his  walks  he  chanced 
on  a  place  where  a  full  provision-basket  was  directly 
needed,  and  no  one  else  directly  at  hand  to  fetch  it.  So, 
at  one  time  and  another,  the  rector  of  St.  Ancient's  had 
been  seen  with  such  matters  in  his  hand,  that  perhaps 
there  was  no  variety  of  luggage  which  it  would  have  been 
entirely  astonishing  to  see  him  carrying  about  town,  except 
that  precise  variety  which  he  had  with  him  to-day.  Of 
course  Dr.  Ilerophilus,  having  also  the  habits  of  a  gentle 
man,  asked  no  open  questions,  since  his  companion  volun 
teered  no  explanation  of  this  most  suggestively  feminine 
appurtenance  which  the  latter  handled  so  delicately,  be 
stowing  it,  as  he  sat  down  to  table,  first  in  one  spot,  and 
then  in  another,  before  he  could  be  satisfied  that  it  was 
absolutely  well  placed.  Still  the  bandbox  wrought  on  his 
secret  mind. 

The  fact  was,  that  there  was  already  lodged  in  the 
physician's  mind  a  little  circumstance  with  which  these 
wandering  impressions  of  something  unusual  and  very 
newly  domestic  about  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  made  a 
kind  of  conjunction.  Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt  had  lauded  in 
New  York  from  a  European  steamer  a  few  days  before. 
Her  first  stopping-place  had  been  her  town  residence  ;  but 
it  was  early  yet  formally  to  open  that,  and  she  had  signi- 


222  A  EEVEEEND  IDOL. 

5ed  to  Dr.  Herophilus,  whom  she  had  called  in  profes 
sionally,  her  wish  to  find  a  very  quiet  seaside  place,  utterly 
removed  from  society,  in  which  to  restore  herself  for  a 
few  weeks.  She  had,  in  fact,  mentioned  Cape  Cod  as  the 
place  she  had  thought  of  for  this  recuperative  retreat. 

There  was  nothing  the  matter  with  the  lady's  constitu 
tion  beyond  a  little  temporary  fatigue  consequent  on  her 
Atlantic  voyage  ;.  and  her  attempt  to  get  sent  by  a  physi 
cian's  prescription  to  that  precise  spot  where  the  Rev. 
Kenyon  Leigh  was  sojourning  had  quietly  tickled  the 
medical  mind.  For  it  is  perhaps  needless  to  state  that 
every  one  who  personally  knew  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew 
her  long  designs  on  the  rector  of  St.  Ancient's,  save  that 
gentleman  himself.  And  as  there  was  a  Mrs.  Herophilus, 
this  Benedict  was  naturally  well  posted  in  all  the  fine 
points  of  the  widow's  strategy.  That  strategy,  it  seemed, 
was  growing  bolder.  For  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  to  be  fol 
lowing  the  minister  quite  so  openly  as  to  take  board 
beside  him  in  the  extremely  isolated  region  where  he  had 
now  hidden  himself,  —  this  was  a  remarkably  new  advance 
on  the  widow's  old  feline  policy.  And  still  more  remark 
ably  new  in  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  was  the  policy  of 
putting  supplies  in  his  pulpit  when  he  could  be  there  him 
self.  What  did  it  all  mean?  queried  the  doctor..  Had 
the  huntress  really  brought  down  the  game  at  last  in  some 
of  the  opportunities  of  her  late  European  tour?  Was 
there  to  be  a  little  quiet  fixing-up  of  things  down  there  in 
the  Cape-Cod  desert,  afar  from  town  gossip,  and  would 
the  minister  retake  his  pulpit  in  October  a  married  man  ? 
All  these  speculations  to  come  out  of  a  bandbox  in  which 
was  hiding  —  another  woman's  bonnet. 

Still  the  speculations  did  not  hang  very  well  together, 
even  in  the  originator's  mind.  In  the  first  place,  hia 
professional  interview  with  the  widow  had  not  exactly 


A   EEVEEEOT)   IDOL.  223 

given  him  the  impression  that  there  was  as  yet  an  actual 
understanding  between  the  pursuer  and  the  pursued. 
What  did  it  all  mean? 

There  are  certain  men,  and  the  invulnerable  rector  of 
St.  Ancient's  was  eminently  one  of  them,  concerning 
whom  even  their  own  sex  ask,  with  some  curiosity,  whether 
they  will  ever  really  marry,  and  who  the  woman  will  be. 
Will  they  be  conquered  at  last  by  a  supreme  charm,  or 
entrapped  by  a  supreme  artifice? 

Perhaps  Dr.  Herophilus,  merely  in  the  interests  of  pure 
philosophy,  wished  to  see  whether  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  and 
the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  furnished  one  more  proof  of  that 
saying  of  Mr.  Thackeray,  quoted  in  the  early  part  of  this 
history,  as  to  the  sure  reward  of  female  determination  in 
such  pursuit  of  a  man.  Or  it  may  be  that  he  was  moved 
by  a  simple  marital  desire  to  carry  Mrs.  Herophilus,  still 
summering  out  of  town,  a  striking  bit  of  news  at  this 
particularly  dull  season.  But  whatever  his  motive,  cer 
tainly  with  as  smug  a  countenance  as  was  ever  worn  by 
any  feminine  gossip  throwing  out  an  apparently  careless 
remark  as  a  bait  to  catch  personal  information,  this  man 
of  science  said,  somewhere  in  the  midst  of  views  on 
Bismarck  and  the  Ultramoutanes,  — 

"  By  the  way,  this  hamlet  at  Cape  Cod  that  you  find  so 
charming  —  is  there  a  habitation  there  where  a  lady  could 
board  ?  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  has  just  arrived  home,  as 
you  may  know,  and  was  speaking  to  me  yesterday  of  her 
wish  to  find  just  such  a  place  as  yours  seems  to  be." 

With  these  tentative  words,  the  doctor,  who  was  making 
a  very  hearty  luncheon,  —  having  breakfasted  unusually 
tariy,  and  expecting  to  dine  extremely  late, — helped 
himself  to  another  slice  of  the  fowl  he  had  ordered.  It 
was  a  superior  kind  of  bird,  served  with  some  French 
sauce  which  he  ladled  out  just  now  in  a  very  absorbed 


224  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

way,  whether  because  he  was  ashamed  of  himself,  or 
because,  while  looking  very  intently  at  a  dish,  one  is  well 
placed  to  flash  an  apparently  careless  glance  into  a  face 
opposite 

He  n-lght  have  looked  at  the  face  opposite  half  an 
hour,  it  would  still  have  remained  a  complete  enigma  to 
him.  Nothing  is  so  absolutely  fathomless  sometimes  to  a 
sophisticated  world  as  pure  simplicity.  The  only  effect 
on  Kenyon  Leigh  of  the  woman's  name  which  had  been 
thus  fired  at  him  was  to  make  him  wish  most  cordially  to 
do  her  a  service.  He  wished  it  more  cordially  than  if  she 
had  been  any  other  member  of  his  parish.  Not  quite  as 
he  would  have  heard  any  other  name  had  he  heard  the 
name  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt ;  not  that  he  thought  of 
the  woman,  so  suddenly  recalled  out  of  the  total  oblivion 
into  which  she  had  fallen  to  him,  with  any  shadow  of 
compunction.  Clear  as  noonday  was  his  sense  that  he 
had  never  paid  her  any  significant  attentions ;  no  less 
clear  was  his  unconsciousness  that  she  had  ever  paid  him 
any.  But  in  his  great  experience  of  a  real  passion,  and 
in  that  deepened  reverence  for  all  women  which  had  come 
with  his  adoration  for  one  woman,  he  had  some  sense  as 
if  he  had  done  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  an  irreverence  in  his 
thought  by  having  ever  entertained  even  a  fugitive  idea 
of  her  as  a  possible  wife  when  he  did  not  love  her.  His 
feeling  was  but  an  undefined  one  ;  for  it  was  like  an  incon 
ceivable  chimera  to  him  now  that  he  had  ever  had  any 
marrying  thoughts  of  the  widow  at  all.  Still  some 
memory  of  such  thoughts,  vaguely  stirring  in  his  con 
sciousness,  were  probably  at  the  bottom  of  his  especial 
eagerness  to  serve  her  now,  — the  eagerness  as  of  one  who 
has  some  little  reparation  to  make. 

Then  another  feeling,  still  more  unformulated,  may 
have  entered  into  the  abounding  welcome  with  which  he 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  226 

was  ready  to  invite  marriageable  ladies  into  boarding- 
places  of  the  most  suggestive  neighborhood  to  himself : 
he  had  drawn  his  last  breath  as  a  bachelor,  so  far  as  there 
being  any  woman  in  the  universe,  save  one,  who  could 
ever  more  be  the  object  to  him  of  sentimental  attentions. 
So  married  he  felt  himself  already  to  be,  for  time  and  foi 
eternity,  he  could  plant  the  handsomest  of  widows  ar»d 
maidens  round  him  right  and  left,  in  that  large  libeity 
towards  all  womankind  wherewith  his  bond  to  one  woman 
had  set  him  free  forever.  Sweet  is  emancipation  to  a 
naturally  liberty-loving  soul ;  and  joyful  to  a  naturally 
benevolent  spirit  the  finding  itself  suddenly  enabled  to 
extend  to  a  whole  sex  just  benevolence,  and  no  more,  in  a 
world  where  it  has  been  a  little  difficult  to  show  them  just 
that  attribute,  and  no  more. 

Thus  altogether  the  minister  responded  with  the  most 
exuberant  heartiness  to  the  remarks  which  the  artful 
Herophilus  had  thrown  out  as  a  trap. 

"  Certainly.  There  is  one  house  in  the  town  "  (he  wa» 
thinking  of  Capt.  Gawthrop's)  "where  I  am  almost  sure 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  could  have  board.  She  will  under 
stand,  of  course,  what  accommodations  are  to  be  expected 
in  these  remote  places  ;  but  nothing  could  be  more  obli 
ging  than  the  people.  And  I  am  certain  she  could  be 
made  quite  comfortable  there,"  he  said,  aware  that  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt  could  pay  for  whatever  "comforts''  she 
wished  added  to  the  Gawthrop  arrangements.  "Tell  her 
from  me  that  I  can  thoroughly  recommend  the  little  (own 
us  a  perfect  retreat ;  and  I  believe,  also,  the  house  will  be 
satisfactory  enough.  Stay,  I  will  write  her  a  note  my 
self,  and  tell  her  where  to  telegraph  if  she  wishes  to  go 
at  once."  And,  calling  a  waiter  to  bring  pen  and  paper, 
the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  was  presently  writing  his  note  to 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 


226  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

The  man  of  science  sat  as  nonplussed  as  ever  a  man 
of  science  was  who  had  indulged  a  moment's  fancy  to 
play  the  gossiping  fool.  Some  such  names  as  this  he 
began  liberally  to  bestow  on  himself  in  his  mind  ;  for, 
with  "all  his  nonplussed  state,  he  saw  the  writing  of  that 
note  go  on  with  a  kind  of  remorse.  The  fact  was,  the 
physician  happened  to  know  the  beautiful  widow  too  well 
to  think  her  at  all  the  wife  for  Kenyon  Leigh.  And  was 
it  possible  that  that  gigantic  piece  of  innocence,  as  he  sat 
there  writing  to  her,  did  not  know  that  he  was  writing  to 
a  woman  who  wished  to  marry  him  ?  Was  he  extending 
to  her  a  merely  humane  invitation  to  take  a  neighboring 
lodge  in  his  wilderness?  and  was  he,  Dr.  Herophilus,  the 
means  of  it,  —  the  means  which  was  to  bring  this  blind 
victim  into  such  deadly  near  range  of  the  sharp-shootress  ? 
It  is  verily  to  be  suspected  that  the  doctor  was  somewhat 
a  believer  in  Mr.  Thackeray's  philosophy  ;  for  he  saw  the 
most  fatal  liabilities  in  the  isolation  of  the  minister  and 
the  determined  widow,  through  the  weeks  to  come,  on 
these  Cape-Cod  sands. 

So  he  sat  discomforted,  as  meddlers  should,  while  the 
minister  wrote  his  note,  directed  it,  and,  calling  the  waiter 
again,  sent  it  by  a  private  messenger  to  the  lady's  house, 
that  she  might  receive  it  at  once. 

The  Ultramontanes  did  not  come  up  again  after  this 
little  interruption  ;  for  the  minister  informed  his  friend 
that  he  had  to  take  a  run  to  Philadelphia  before  returning 
to  the  Cape,  and  had  still  some  more  business  in  the  city : 
in  short,  he  presently  shook  hands  and  departed,  taking 
with  him  that  Pandora  bandbox  out  of  which  had  verily 
flown  certain  winged  mischiefs,  wheeling  their  dark  flight, 
to  bring  the  widow,  the  maiden,  the  minister,  to  most 
fateful  meetfngs. 


A  BEVEKKND   IDOL.  227 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LT  was  Saturday  evening  when  Mr.  Leigh  came  again 
to  the  Cape.  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  he  had  nowhere 
seen ;  but  that  lady,  on  receiving  his  note  in  New  York, 
had  lost  no  time.  Engaging  her  boarding-place  by  tele 
graph,  and  making  her  journey  thither  by  steam,  the 
minister,  moreover,  using  up  a  day  by  his  trip  to  Phila 
delphia,  she  arrived  at  Capt.  Gawthrop's  house  just  one 
train  in  advance  of  the  train  which  brought  Mr.  Leigh 
again  to  Mrs.  Doane's.  At  the  latter  house  that  evening, 
there  was,  after  tea,  a  little  scene  in  the  front  sitting- 
room.  The  returned  traveller  had  deposited  on  a  table 
there  sundry  packages  of  the  sort  which  make  returned 
travellers  in  general  so  interesting;  viz.,  the  presents 
which  he  had  brought  for  the  household. 

So,  while  Mrs.  Doane  unrolled  and  beheld  her  dress- 
pattern  with  that  profound  thrill  of  satisfaction  which 
black  silk  of  the  best  quality  conveys  to  the  heart  of 
woman,  and  while  Susannah  performed  a  true  Ethiopian 
dance  of  delight  over  the  brave  glory  of  her  new  shawlv 
and  ran  to  find  u  his  Honor,"  who  had  become  invisible 
at  this  moment,  Monny  dipped  into  her  two  bandboxes, 
and  drew  forth  with  blushing  amaze  their  contents. 

She  .tried  on  both  the  hats  by  the  ancient  gilt-framed 
looking-glass.  She  took  them  off,  and  looked  their  dainti 
ness  all  over  by  the  kerosene  globe-lamp.  To  the  last 
shadow  of  a  shade  each  of  them  suited  her  taste  and  her 
style.  She  had  the  blue-plumed  hat  on  her  head,  and  the 


228  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

i 

half-transparent  white  one  poised  like  a  snow-wreath  on 
her  hand,  when  Mr.  Leigh  carne  into  the  room. 

"  Real  Valenciennes  on  a  garden-hat !  Oh,  what  awful 
extravagance ! ' '  cried  Monny,  as  the  first  manner  of 
salute  which  she  could  trust  her  voice  to  make  to  that 
gentleman.  For,  knowing  very  well  that  a  lawn  hat  with 
such  trimmings  had  never  been  made  but  to  a  special 
order,  she  was  thinking  of  all  it  implied  for  Mr.  Leigh  tn 
have  discovered  any  language  in  which  to  communicate 
detailed  directions  to  a  milliner. 

For  himself  —  the  novice  in  buying  ladies'  bonnets 
stood  looking  at  the  adored  one's  head  to  see  how  the 
chip  hat  became  her.  "  Her  hair  is  pretty,  but  she  isn't 
pretty  in  her  hair,"  was  a  remembered  speech  of  Miss 
Monny,  which  had  terribly  haunted  him  in  the  milliner's 
shop,  warning  him  that  not  only  the  hat  must  be  pretty, 
but  Monny  must  be  pretty  in  the  hat.  Well,  surely  noth 
ing  could  be  prettier  than  Monny  in  the  chip  hat,  except 
Monny  in  the  lawn  one,  and  vice  versa.  She  tried  them 
on  now  by  turns ;  she  whirled  slowly  round  to  be  looked 
at ;  then  she  stood  still,  with  the  garden-hat  on  her  head 
and  the  dress-hat  in  her  hand,  to  admire  again  the  points 
of  the  latter. 

"It  was  —  made  a  little  different  at  first,"  said  the 
anxious  man,  drawing  near,  and  looking  down  also  on 
the  hat,  which  Monny  was  turning  about  under  the  lamp 
light.  "There  was  a  glittering  substance  there,"  point 
ing  as  he  spoke,  "which  I  thought  might  not  quite  suit 
you  ;  and  so  I  had  it  cut  off.  But  I  have  brought  it,  in 
case  you  wished  to  fix  it  on  again  ; ' '  and  he  solemnly 
drew  from  his  vest-pocket  the  aigrette  wra^  ped  up  in 
tissue-paper.  Then  he  proceeded,  in  words  very  crude 
indeed,  but  wlrch  were  strangely  significant  to  Monny, 
to  explain  about  that  experimenting  with  the  blue-velvet 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  229 

bow  and  the  black  one.  Did  she  suppose  she  would  have 
liked  the  blue  one  better?  he  asked,  in  such  a  tone  as  if 
he  might  be  going  up  to  weep  on  his  pillow  because  he 
did  not  get  the  blue  bow  after  all. 

Mouny  looked  slowly  up  at  these  quaint  explainiugs 
(Mrs.  Doane,  having  offered  her  thanks,  had  vanished 
discreetly  out  of  the  room),  ar»d  the  maiden's  eyes  met 
htr  lover's  with  a  long,  silent  gaze. 

Considering  all  that  had  been  in  the  early  acquaintance 
of  these  two,  pretty  things  to  wear  would  have  been  a 
very  dangerous  line  of  presents  for  the  man  to  make  to 
this  keen-eyed  girl,  if  there  had  been  one  grain  of  false 
quality  in  the  impulse  which  had  moved  him  to  just  these 
gifts.  But  she  saw  to  the  bottom  of  his  thought,  and 
knew  that  not  as  one  pets  a  beloved  doll,  humoring  its 
doll-like  fancies,  had  her  lover  brought  her  tokens  like 
these.  A  longing  to  make  the  amende  honorable  to  Monny 
for  all  his  early  mistaken  judgment  of  her,  to  tell  her 
how  charming  to  him  was  the  very  lightest  foliage  of  lier 
character,  as  well  as  its  enduring  roots  of  worth,  —  in  this 
lover's  longing,  — 

"  Once,  and  only  once,  and  for  one  only,"  could  Kenyon 
Leigh  master  the  high  science  of  ribbons  and  flowers  and 
feathers  ;  and  for  once  in  the  world  a  New -York  milliner's 
bonnet  became  poetic  as  over  it  the  understanding  eyes  of 
these  two  met  in  a  look  wherein  all  was  spoken. 

Words  were  not  spoken  here,  however ;  for  just  now 
Ouke  George  must  push  the  unlatched  door  with  his  nose, 
and  walk  in,  Susannah  in  his  wake,  ostensibly  to  take  out 
the  dog.  ~.mt  really  because  she  could  no  longer  restrain  her 
curiosity  to  see  what  "  his  Honor  "  had  brought  for  Miss 
Monny.  So  the  bonnets  were  displayed  to  this  fresh 
audience  ;  and  then  Monny  bent  down,  and  clasped  his  new 
collar  round  Duke  George's  neck,  and  Mrs.  Doane  was 


230  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

called  in  to  see  bonnets  and  dog-collars,  and  altogether  it 
became  a  family  scene  again. 

So  we  will  glance  at  that  other  house,  half  a  mile  away, 
where,  also,  was  a  newly-arrived  traveller.  Mrs.  Van  Cort- 
landt  was  standing  at  a  window  of  that  house,  looking 
out,  while  her  maid  unpacked  her  trunks,  into  the  mist}T 
night  which  wrapped  all  the  strange,  low-lying  Cape 
shores.  She  was  triumphing  in  the  thought  that  this  was 
her  last  journey  after  Kenyon  Leigh.  She  did  not  pre 
tend,  even  to  herself,  that  he  had  ever  yet  paid  her  any 
lover's  attentions.  But  the  briefest  term  of  courtship, 
whose  first  step  would  be  absolute  assurance  for  the 
last,  was  just  what  she  had  expected  of  the  man ;  and  a 
most  prodigious  first  step  for  him,  she  counted  it,  that  he 
had  invited  her  here.  Moreover,  she  knew  that  all  the 
latter  days  in  which  she  had  seen  Kenyon  Leigh,  at  home 
and  in  Europe,  had  been  peculiarly  favorable  days  for 
her.  This  was  true.  Who  shall  say  how  all  that  mys 
teriously  fatal  pressure  which  the  years  exert  to  reduce 
every  ideal  aim  to  the  commonplace  standard  had  wrought 
on  Kenyon  Leigh  to  bring  him  to  a  mere  mariage  de  raison 
at  last?  It  is  time  to  adjust  one's  self  to  life  as  it  is,  to 
follow  no  longer  the  young  dream  of  what  it  is,  had  been 
an  underlying  thought  with  him  about  all  things  during 
this  thirty-fourth  of  his, — the  storm-tossed  year, — and 
there  was  the  old  appointed  anchor  of  marriage  and  a 
home.  It  had  been,  indeed,  the  hour  for  the  woman  who 
had  always  pleased  his  taste,  and  skilfully  had  she  im 
proved  it.  She  had  gone  abroad  when  he  did,  by  no 
means,  however,  on  the  same  steamer :  when  he  returned 
home,  she  also  set  sail,  but,  very  decorously,  by  a  later 
ship.  Her  art  had  always  been  perfect. 

The  whole  secret  of  power  over  others,  she  believed, 
lay  in  dexterity  of  scheming :  by  this  she  had  woo  th* 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  231 

invulnerable  Kenyon  Leigh,  and  by  this  she  meant  to  be 
that  power  with  him  after  marriage  which  she  had  not 
been  with  her  first  husband.  For,  although  men  were  by 
nature  absorbed  only  in  themselves,  she  believed  women 
of  sufficient  art  and  subtlety  could  overcome  ttat  nature. 
History  made  abundant  record  of  such  womeu.  Ninon 
de  1'Enclos,  with  her  lovers  at  sixty ;  Diana  de  Poictiers, 
adored  by  a  young  prince  who  could  neglect  a  fair  young 
wife  for  a  woman  always  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  and 
growing  on  into  old  age  even,  without  abating  one  jot  of 
her  charm  to  him  ;  Cleopatra,  who  attained  her  greatest 
fascination  only  with  ripe  years  ;  Helen  of  Troy,  who  was 
forty  years  old,  and  Heaven  knew  how  much  more,  when 
her  lovers  kept  the  world  in  arms,  — these  were  women 
who  had  really  swayed  men  with  lasting  ascendency,  —  the 
most  powerful  of  men,  —  and  who  could  thus  work  their 
will  in  the  world  with  even  more  than  a  man's  autocracy, 
—  with  the  autocracy  of  the  woman  who  rules  the  man. 

And  these  sovereign  charmers,  the  beautiful  widow  said 
to  herself,  had  always  had  two  conditions  in  their  lives ; 
viz.,  they  were  old  enough  to  have  made  exhaustive  study 
of  all  the  weaknesses  and  caprices  of  men,  by  adroit 
managing  of  which  they  swayed  them  ;  and  the  way  of 
their  improper  lives  had  enlarged  that  study  by  knowledge 
of  many  different  men.  She  herself  was  now  thirty- 
five,  just  coming  into  that  accomplished  prime  of  years ; 
and  she  had  had  one  husband,  who  being  decorously  under 
ground,  she  could  apply  in  a  second  marriage  all  that  she 
had  learned  through  the  failure  of  her  first. 

What  this  perfectly  correct  American  lady  emulated  iu 
those  shining  names  among  the  improper  sisterhood  was 
their  power:  she  thirsted  for  power.  For  thus  far  in 
her  life,  with  all  her  beauty,  elegance,  wealth,  and  un 
questioned  entrance  to  society  at  home  and  aluxxul,  Mrs 


232  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

Van  Cortlandt  had  been  a  consciously  unsuccessful  woman. 
She  could  not  build  up  any  thing,  —  not  a  permanent  place 
in  a  husband's  heart,  nor  the  supreme  social  leadership 
which  she  had  aspired  to :  for  to  win  even  the  latter 
influence,  external  advantages  alone  do  not  suffice  ;  there 
must  be  talent,  energy,  sympathy,  some  qualities  more  vital 
than  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  ever  cultivated  in  herself. 

SLe  had  some  fantastic  notion  now  of  building  up  the 
church.  The  mysterious  attraction  which  that  institution 
seems  so  often  to  have  for  jaded  women  of  the  world, 
their  notion  of  it  as  an  institution  especially  dependent  on 
feminine  patronage,  wrought  on  her  mind,  inducing  her  to 
weave  some  very  curious  visions  of  pageantry  round  her 
position  as  the  wife  of  Kenyon  Leigh.  The  hereditary 
palaces  and  other  honors  naturally  appertaining  to  the 
highest  dignitaries  of  a  State  Church,  as  to  the  lord- 
bishops  of  Mr.  Leigh's  own  church  in  England,  the 
splendor  maintained  by  Romish  cardinals,  the  brilliant 
social  figure  that  some  of  them  made,  —  all  this,  which 
her  long  residence  abroad  had  familiarized  her  with,  floated 
before  her  fancy  as  something  which  she  would  reproduce 
in  America. 

She  well  anticipated  that  she  might  have  a  little  trouble 
in  ingrafting  her  plans  for  making  the  church  imposing  in 
this  world  on  the  mind  of  Kenyon  Leigh,  who  had  long 
ago  marked  down  to  an  extremely  low  figure  all  the  time 
that  he  could  spare  for  what  is  called  "society."  She 
would  find  her  second  husband,  of  course,  like  the  first, 
wedded  to  some  of  those  invisible  rivals  which  every 
woman  had  to  fight  in  a  husband's  heart.  If,  in  this 
case,  the  man  was  not  wedded  to  his  club,  his  cigar,  some 
excitement  of  masculine  sports,  or  to  still  more  doubtful 
pleasures,  he  was  wedded  to  his  whims.  The  fashiona 
ble  woman  really  called  by  no  more  serious  name  than 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  233 

" whims"  the  intense  absorption  of  Kenj^on  Leigh  in 
his  work.  De  Tocqueville  speaks  of  a  certain  fine  lacty 
who  invariably  ran  out  of  any  apartment  that  Napoleon 
entered,  because  "he  was  always  talking  his  l  silly'  poli 
tics."  The  man  whose  topics  of  conversation  did  not 
interest  her,  though  he  were  Europe's  conqueror,  wait 
simply  "  silly,"  and  no  more. 

The  woman  who  proposed,  so  soon  as  she  should  be  his 
wife,  admirably  to  reform  the  devoted  minister  of  all  his 
"  whims  "  and  "  silliness,"  happened  to  be  a  very  selfish 
woman.  But  it  is  unfortunately  true  that  there  has  so 
often  been  nothing  in  a  woman's  own  mental  training  to 
give  her  any  just  notion  of  the  requirements  which  an 
intellectual  man's  tasks  make  upon  his  life,  that  many 
a  wife  who  by  no  means  deserves  to  be  called  mark 
edly  selfish,  honestly  regards  as  mere  whims  (which  she 
pardons  more  or  less  as  affection  rules  her)  the  ab 
solutely  indispensable  conditions  under  which  her  hus 
band  does  his  best  work.  These  things  being  so,  the 
dutiful,  domestic,  uncritical  woman,  asking  nothing  for 
herself,  the  genuine  satellite  wife,  has  probably  deserved 
all  the  praises  with  which  her  meek  brows  have  so  often 
been  crowned  by  men  of  talent  and  ambition  hard  driven 
in  the  ways  where  those  endowments  lead. 

Kenyon  Leigh  had  never  wanted  a  satellite  wife :  satel 
lites  were  not  only  uninteresting  to  him,  but  peculiarly 
oppressive.  But  he  was  a  hard-driven  worker;  and  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt  had  so  regulated  her  existence  before  him 
for  the  last  four  years  as  to  suggest  that  her  own  natural 
tastes  would  choose  just  that  way  of  life  which  would 
blend  most  undisturbingly  with  his. 

She  was  a  wife  to  have  been  perfectly  fatal  to  the  great 
preacher.  High  in  the  hills  of  God  this  eagle  had  his 
rest ;  but  he  soared  on  only  mortal  pinions  —  their  flight 


234  A  EEVEREND   IDOL. 

could  be  broken.  This  most  alien  spirit,  this  poor  restlesa 
woman,  had  strings  to  have  bound  and  chafed  to  death 
precisely  a  man  like  this. 

Did  she  cherish  of  intent  ruinous  designs  on  the  happi 
ness  of  the  man  she  proposed  to  marry  ?  Oh,  no !  her 
designs  were  merely  for  her  own  happiness.  Youth,  in 
its  maddest  chase  after  pleasure,  never  runs  quite  so 
desperately  as  does  the  elder  worldling  after  some  toy 
which  seems  to  promise  deliverance  from  ennui,  —  that 
tormentor  whose  scourge  finds  out  the  soul  which  has 
successfully  lapped  itself  from  every  other  earthly  ill. 
Indolence  which  will  not  rouse  itself  to  any  useful  activity 
has  been  seen  to  take  on  the  fiercest  energy  here  ;  and  this 
disappointed  woman  of  fashion,  with  her  chaotic  dreams 
of  the  four  years  past,  stood  to-night  at  a  point  in  her  life 
to  dare  all  things  for  their  fulfilling. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  235 


CHAPTER  XV. 

rr^HE  next  day  was  Sunday ;  and  Monny  must  go  to 
J-  church  some  time  before  the  hour  for  service,  as  she 
had  been  playing  the  church-organ  for  weeks  to  allow 
young  Clara  Macey  to  go  away  and  take  music-lessons  of 
a  master,  who,  summering  in  a  certain  country-place, 
would  take  vacation  scholars  at  less  than  his  city  prices. 
This  particular  morning  Mrs.  Doanc  accompanied  Monny 
in  her  early  walk,  not  to  disturb  the  decorum  of  the  regu 
lar  meeting-hour  by  so  secular  a  sight  as  a  tin  pail,  which 
she  was  going  to  carry  filled  with  broth  to  a  sick  man  in 
the  village,  Skipper  Benway. 

Mr.  Leigh,  to  spare  Monny  the  annoyance  of  local 
gossip,  was  not  accustomed  to  walk  with  her  to  church, 
or,  indeed,  anywhere  about  the  village  ;  but  this  morning, 
seeing  how  his  beloved  became  with  her  matronly  escort 
a  mere  family  party  to  which  any  general  acquaintance 
might  join  himself,  he  snatched  his  hat  and  ran  down 
stairs  to  go  early  to  church  likewise.  The  widow  turned, 
and  sanctioned  his  company  by  gravely  bestowing  on  him 
some  stalks  of  the  caraway-plant,  which  she  called  dill,  — 
that  herb  sacred  from  immemorial  Puritan  usage  to  break 
the  fasts  of  long  sermons.  Monny  blushed  radiant  be 
neath  her  blue-plumed  hat,  his  gift, — she  was  arrayed, 
for  the  rest,  in  a  black  silk  walking-suit,  according  to  the 
prophetic  milliner,  —  and  the  three  set  forth  together. 

The  road  they  trod  was  unfenced,  stretching  away  on 
either  side  into  such  a  waste  as  is  this  narrowed  portion 


236  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

of  Cape  Cod,  — only  a  dryer  sandbar  that  the  Atlantic  haa 
thrown  up,  and  the  beach-grass  roped  together,  to  keep 
the  waters  from  claiming  their  own  again. 

But  hints  of  the  coming  autumn,  which  would  soon  make 
beautiful  with  color  all  the  shrubby  sand-hills,  touched 
already  here  and  there  the  wilding  bushes  which  overran 
them  ;  land-birds  that  were  half  sea-birds  rose  out  of  their 
nests  in  these  thickets,  flying  over  them  from  bay  to 
ocean,  and  from  ocean  back  to  bay ;  out  on  the  great  sea- 
roads  white  sails  were  growing  and  fading  in  the  horizon's 
blue,  or  those  long  smoky  banners  that  an  ocean  steamer 
trails,  —  altogether  the  walk  was  so  delightful  to  Kenyon 
Leigh,  that  he  quite  forgot  its  proper  place  of  termination  : 
this,  for  him,  was  certainly  the  foot  of  the  church-gallery 
stairs.  But  arrived  at  that  spot),  although  he  really  had 
not  premeditated  it,  some  spirit  in  his  feet,  some  u  Whither 
thou  goest  I  will  go,"  took  him  straight  up  the  gallery- 
stairs  after  Monny.  She  was  a  little  in  advance  of  him, 
talking  with  the  male  leader  of  the  choir,  Capt.  Puffer, 
who  had  been  politely  waiting  for  the  young  organist  at 
the  meeting-house  door  to  give  her  the  hymns,  which  he 
had  just  obtained  from  the  minister.  So  Mr.  Leigh  went 
up  into  the  singers'  gallery  quite  on  his  own  invitation ; 
but,  once  arrived  there,  he  could  not  tear  himself  away. 

It  was  in  itself  a  most  enchanting  loft  to  the  New- York 
churchman.  Two  hundred  years  there  had  been  an  Ortho 
dox  meeting-house  on  this  site.  The  first  one  had  a 
thatched  roof,  through  which  the  early  settlers  fired  their 
muskets  at  the  Indians.  Of  course,  though  the  founda 
tion-stones  were  thus  ancient,  the  frame-building  had 
been  more  than  once  rebuilt  since  that  primeval  thatched 
structure  which  had  blazed  out  its  gospel  to  the  heathen 
through  the  roof. 

Still  the  present  edifice  dated  so  far  back  as  to  be  a 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  237 

pure  specimen  of  the  old  Puritan  meeting-house  in  all  its 
barn-like  glory.  The  only  thing  about  it  suggesting  the 
present  age  was  the  organ,  a  very  good  one,  but  looking 
quite  astray  in  the  old-fashioned  high  gallery,  stretching 
straight  from  wall  to  wall,  opposite  the  pulpit-end  of  the 
church,  and  garnished  with  obsole  e  frills  of  faded  red 
curtain,  pushed  aside  in  little  huddled  flaps  here  and  there 
along  a  brass  rod  ;  nobody  being  moved  to  so  radical  a 
step  as  taking  down  these  long-d.sused  modesties.  In 
all  small  boys  of  the  congregation,  we  may  remark,*  ex 
isted  a  deathless  and  never-quenched  desire  to  sit  in  the 
gallery.  There  were  tempting  tiers  of  vacant  seats  on 
either  side  of  those  occupied  by  the  singers,  but  Capt. 
Puffer  kept  the  entire  gallery  rigorously  closed  to  all  but 
the  choir.  The  Cape-Cod  small  boy,  however,  imitating 
the  strategy  of  "  stowaways"  on  board  ship,  would  some 
times  hide  himself  in  the  hold  of  one  of  the  remoter 
gallery-pews  until  the  choir  was  well  out  to  sea,  singing 
the  first  hymn  in  full  face  of  the  risen  congregation. 
Then  the  young  church  stowaway  would  steal  slowly  up 
to  view  from  his  hiding  under  the  pew-seat,  seeming  "•  to 
snatch  a  fearful  joy  "  from  the  very  sight  of  Capt.  Puffer, 
who  with  his  mouth  stretched  wide  in  the  delivery  of  the 
tenor  notes,  one  hand  holding  his  book,  and  the  other 
Jjeating  time  for  his  band,  was  certainly  powerless  to  deal 
with  intruders,  except  by  a  flash  of  his  wrathful  eye,  till 
the  hymn  was  ended.  In  some  of  his  moods,  ho w ever, 
the  musical  captain  would  pounce  on  such  a  trespasser  so 
instantly  after  the  conclusion  of  the  hymn,  that  Mr 
Leigh,  from  his  seat  in  the  congregation  below,  had  seer, 
such  skirmishings  round  those  gallery-pews  as  made  him 
avare  of  the  jealousy  with  which  they  were  guarded 
against  all  outsiders.  What  was  he  himself,  but  an  out 
sider,  who,  in  deference  to  Capt.  Puffer's  prejudices,  ought 


238  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

certainly  to  go  below  at  sermon-time  —  unless  he  should 
join  the  choir?  This  sudden  idea  came  to  the  famous 
preacher  of  St.  Ancient's  with  a  perfect  fascination.  Such 
a  delicious  sense  of  being  — 

"  Out  of  the  ages  of  worldly  weather, 
Forgotten  of  all  men  altogether," 

would  there  be  in  sitting  in  the  singing-seats  with  his 
sweetheart,  carrying  a  bunch  of  dill !  He  stuck  those 
greens  in  his  buttonhole,  and,  gravely  taking  up  a  sing 
ing-book,  obediently  found  the  page  as  Capt.  Puffer  gave 
out  the  tune  for  the  first  hymn. 

At  this  movement  the  distinguished  new  addition  to  the 
choir  was  naturally  invited  to  take  a  head  seat ;  bat  he 
discreetly  declined  this  honor,  choosing  his  place  quite  at 
the  foot  of  the  bass  force  of  the  choir. 

The  rehearsal  was  not  an  extended  one,  only  a  long 
metre,  a  common  metre,  and  a  short  metre  tune  for  the 
three  hymns  of  the  Orthodox  service ;  and  then  the  bell 
began  to  boom  in  the  belfry  overhead,  the  choir  laid  down 
their  books,  and,  while  Monny's  fingers  wandered  over  the 
organ-keys  into  an  andante  movement  from  Beethoven, 
the  congregation  came  into  the  pews  below  with  an  inquir 
ing  glance  towards  the  pulpit  to  see  who  was  to  occupy  it 
to-day ;  for  the  installed  pastor  of  the  church  had  gone 
this  summer  to  make  a  long-desired  visit  to  a  son  married 
and  settled  in  San  Francisco.  So  the  pulpit  had  been 
u  supplied  "  ever  since  Mr.  Leigh's  sojourn  in  Lonewater  ; 
the  supplies  generally  representing  the  two  uttermost  ex 
tremes  of  ministerial  experience  ;  viz.,  the  superannuated 
old  fathers  who  had  retired  from  the  active  ministry,  and 
the  very  young  sons  who  had  scarcely  entered  on  it,  to 
wit,  theological  students  who  came  down  by  the  cars  on 
Saturday  night,  from  Andover  and  elsewhere,  to  make  theii 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  239 

maiden  efforts  before  this  little  congregation  by  the  sea. 
To-day  it  seemed  to  be  the  fathers'  d^y ;  for,  with  the 
last  strokes  of  the  bell,  a  white-haired  old  man  walked 
slowly  up  the  aisle,  and  took  his  place  in  the  pulpit.  Just 
in  the  wake  of  the  minister  came  Capt.  Gawthrop,  ad 
vancing  to  his  well-placed  pew  in  the  centre  of  the  house, 
whose  door  he  held  wide  while  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  swept 
in.  her  landlord  closing  the  door  after  her,  and  turning  to 
seat  himself,  and  such  of  his  family  as  were  with  him, 
elsewhere,  discreetly  leaving  a  lady  with  so  grand  an  air 
to  occupy  the  pew  alone.  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  certainly 
had  the  grand  air ;  for  in  regions  where  that  air  is  held 
to  be  quite  unmistakable  —  at  European  courts,  for  in 
stance  —  the  beautiful  American  was  never  taken  for  any 
thing  less  than  a  duchess,  till  her  nationality  was  known. 

The  proud  woman  had  entered  the  little  meeting-house 
with  but  one  object,  —  to  see  Kenyon  Leigh,  and  he  was 
not  there  —  unless  on  the  chance  that  he  had  come  in 
later  than  herself,  and  was  seated  somewhere  behind  her. 
In  this  hope,  glad  was  the  widow  when  the  antique  con 
gregation  rose  up  at  the  first  hymn,  and  faced  round 
towards  the  choir  to  see  them  sing  it.  But,  thus  enabled 
to  sweep  the  house  at  a  glance,  she  still  believed  that  he 
was  absent,  until,  lifting  her  disappointed  eyes  in  pure 
ennui  towards  the  high  gallery,  lo,  there  she  beheld  him, 
the  rector  of  St.  Ancient's,  perched  up  in  a  Cape-Cod 
conventicle,  singing  bass  at  the  foot  of  the  choir ! 

Now,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew  Kenyon  Leigh  quite 
well  enough  to  know  that  a  freak  like  this  was  not  charac 
teristic  of  him  normally.  This  was  true.  It  was  entirely 
characteristic  of  him  to  fill  up  any  scanty  Sunday-school 
library,  of  whatever  sect,  that  fell  in  his  way,  to  preach 
in  any  sort  of  meeting-house  that  asked  him,  to  go  walk- 
ing,  in  short,  over  his  church-lines,  in  all  directions  where 


240  A    KEVEREND   IDOL. 

his  business  really  led  him  to  walk  over  them.  But  he 
never  walked  over  them  for  mere  display.  "  Go  to  now, 
I  propose  to  be  a  Liberal,"  was  never  the  style  of  any  of 
his  departures  from  the  conservative  ways  of  his  church. 
His  parishioner  from  St.  Ancient's  knew,  therefore,  that, 
while  it  might  perfectly  be  expected  of  Mr.  Leigh  to 
officiate  at  the  pulpit-end  of  this  little  Cape-Cod  church, 
yet  for  him  to  officiate  at  the  singing-end  of  it  was  a 
stretch  of  broad-churchmanship  not  to  have  been  expected 
ol  iiim.  And  she  asked,  as  did  Dr.  Herophilus  over  the 
bandbox,  "  What  did  this  newness  mean?  " 

The  man,  to  her  knowledge,  made  no  pretensions  what 
ever  to  tuneful  powers.  It  appeared  now,  as  he  warbled 
away  there,  that  he  might  have  by  nature  a  very  good 
bass  voice  ;  but  it  is  doubtful  if  he  had  scarce  exercised 
it  before  in  singing  since  his  college-days.  How  had  he 
broken  out  so  suddenly  as  a  Presbyterian  vocalist?  How 
came  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  to  be  so  surprisingly  of 
ficious  in  that  which  was  not  his  business  ? 

The  astonished  lady  in  the  congregation  pondered  these 
questions  with  much  exercise  of  mind.  To  behold  the 
man  so  familiar  to  her  in  the  chancel  of  St.  Ancient's, 
with  the  great  congregation  crowding  every  standing-spot 
of  the  edifice,  while  the  grand  strains  of  the  Te  Deum 
Laudamus  rolled  round  his  head ;  to  see  him  aloft  under 
that  white-washed  roof,  singing  so  painstakingly,  in  the 
chopped  metres  of  the  Orthodox  hymn-book,  — 

"Let  us  awake  our  joys, 
Strike  up  Avith  cheerful  voice, 

Each  creature  sing; 
Angels,  begin  the  song, 
Mortals,  the  strains  prolong, 
In  accents  sweet  and  strong,"  etc.  — 

to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt   this  was   something  of    a  sight 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  241 

So  dutifully  he  inclined  his  famed  head  to  follow  the  lead 
of  that  minstrel,  the  chief  bass  (a  squat  sailor,  who  sang 
in  a  voice  like  the  growl  of  the  surges  over  the  bar)  ; 
so  softly  he  brummed  away  on  the  more  ambitious  slurs, 
and  let  fly  on  the  notes  he  was  sure  of,  with  a  laudable 
intention  to  sustain  the  organist  when  he  could,  and  not 
do  any  harm  when  he  couldn't  —  this  was  a  little  of  a 
spectacle. 

Not  that  it  was  absurd ;  no,  the  immortal  charm 
which  there  is  in  simplicity  and  right  good  will,  and  the 
inalienable  dignity  with  which  these  qualities  crown  any 
action,  made  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  never  absurd,  even 
when  he  was  in  love  forty  thousand  fathoms  deep.  But 
if  this  musical  performance  of  a  man  whose  gifts  were 
not  in  music  escaped  the  ridiculous  (the  tradition  re 
mained  ever  after  in  this  parish,  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  a 
magnificent  singer,  only  that  he  would  not  let  his  voice 
out  to  throw  the  rest  of  the  choir  in  the  shade),  an  all- 
pervading  air  of  uuusualness  about  Kenyon  Leigh  did  not 
escape  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 

Is  there  some  positive  coruscation  about  a  lover?  Cer 
tainly  the  enamoured  man  in  the  choir  did  not  once  turn 
his  head  towards  the  organist,  and  most  certainly  she 
did  not  turn  hers  towards  him :  nevertheless,  the  pair  of 
feminine  eyes  that  watched  so  narrowly  from  the  pew 
below  soon  travelled  from  the  man  to  that  young  lady 
who  was  officiating  at  the  organ.  Naturally  she  could 
see  only  her  back,  the  outline  of  a  girlish  waist,  a  rich 
euil  or  two  of  fair  hair  falling  from  the  simple  coil  in 
^hich  most  of  Monny's  tresses  were  wound  up  to-day; 
poised  on '  this  Lair  a  pale-blue  plumed  hat,  whose  turn 
and  style  suggested  the  very  inside  heart  of  Paris.  Of 
the  face,  nothing  like  a  full  profile-view  even  could  be 
caught ;  only  a  glimpse  now  and  then  of  a  line  of  soft 


242  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

cheek  and  throat  as  the  player  bent  a  little  this  way  01 
that  to  manipulate  her  organ-stops. 

The  hymn  ended,  and  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  must  face 
away  from  the  choir  again,  and  sit  down  with  the  rest, 
which  she  did,  feeling  vaguely  startled  out  of  the  secure 
mood  in  which  she  had  entered  the  church.  Still  her 
apprehensions  were  but  dim ;  her  opinion  of  Mr.  Leigh's 
make-up  leading  her  to  be  peculiarly  unafraid  of  rivals, 
especially  in  young  girls.  Nevertheless,  she  began  to 
recall  —  for  she  had  immediately  decided  that  the  amateur 
organ-player  was  that  other  summer-boarder  at  the  house 
where  Mr.  Leigh  was  staying  —  every  item  that  she  had 
heard  concerning  the  young  lady. 

She  had  first  heard  of  her  that  morning,  in  the  talk 
of  her  maid  Tonson  while  she  was  dressing  her  hair. 
Tonson  was  a  British  woman,  who  had  been  for  years  in 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  service,  —  first  as  child's  nurse,  and 
afterwards  promoted,  for  some  marked  talents  that  she 
possessed,  to  be  the  lady's  dressing-maid.  These  talents 
were  not  so  much  in  the  line  of  toilet  services  proper  as 
in  another  line  of  gifts  sometimes  highly  valuable  in  a 
lady's  maid,  viz.,  the  gift  for  gathering  gossip  to  regale 
ears  too  polite  to  gather  it  for  themselves.  Tonson's 
gossip  of  this  morning  had  seemed  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt 
of  but  very  little  value.  The  maid,  who  knew  perfectly 
all  the  matrimonial  designs  of  her  mistress,  had  duly 
crammed  herself  the  night  before  in  the  Gawthrop 
kitchen,  from  the  lips  of  the  cook,  with  all  details  about 
Mr.  Leigh  and  his  boarding-place ;  and  in  the  course  of 
this  babble  the  name  of  Miss  Monny  Rivers  had  been 
often  repeated,  with  all  that  dressing-up  which  so  popular 
a  star  naturally  received  at  the  hands  of  a  native  boasting 
to  a  new-comer  of  the  distinctions  of  the  town  in  its 
transient  as  well  as  permanent  inhabitants.  Thus,  trans- 


A    REVEREND   IDOL.  243 

mitted  from  the  kitchen  through  Tonson,  Mrs.  Van  Cort- 
landt  had  heard  a  long  chronicle  of  the  toilets  and  talents 
and  beauty  and  beaux  of  Miss  Rivers ;  but,  so  far  as  she 
had  given  a  thought  to  this  tiresome  heroine  at  all,  she 
had  conceived  her  to  be  some  very  average  city  i;irl, 
glorified  in  the  ideas  of  this  primitive  region  into  a  beauty 
and  a  belle.  She  gave  so  much  more  thought  to  Miss 
Rivers  now,  that  she  was  impatient  for  the  congregation 
to  be  dismissed  in  order  to  secure  a  good  look  at  her  face. 
But  only  the  short  prayer  had  yet  been,  of  the  Orthodox 
service ;  and  long  prayer,  and  Bible-reading,  and  more 
hymns  must  be ;  and,  when  these  were  got  through  with, 
there  was  the  affliction  of  the  sermon  to  be  endured. 

No  affliction,  no  sense  of  endurance,  meanwhile,  did 
the  sermon  bring  in  that  charmed  gallery  where  sat  the 
famous  preacher,  and  heard,  heard  how  devoutly !  —  as 
the  dear  old  soul  in  the  pulpit  preached  on  the  everlasting 
decrees,  and  proved  to  a  hair,  —  that  every  good  and  per 
fect  gift  (such  as  Monny)  cometh  down  from  the  Father 
of  lights,  for  no  merit  or  deserving  in  the  receiver,  but 
fore-ordained  to  him,  of  Heaven's  own  divineness,  before 
the  world  was.  And  so  in  the  gallery  and  the  pews  the 
sermon  went  on  to  its  end.  The  benediction  was  said, 
and  from  the  gallery  and  the  pews  came  the  people. 

Mr.  Leigh  shook  hands  with  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  in 
the  church-entry,  not  far  from  the  foot  of  the  gallery- 
stairs.  The  lady,  stepping  aside  a  little  out  of  the  passing 
current  of  the  people,  as  she  stood  to  talk  with  her  rector, 
it  chanced  that  her  back  was  directly  towards  the  gallery- 
stairs  when  Monny  presently  descended  them,  chattiug 
with  some  of  the  female  singers  of  the  choir  alongside 
and  behind  her  on  the  rather  narrow  stairs.  Monny's 
attention  being  thus  diverted,  she  did  not  observe  whom 
Mr  Leigh  was  speaking  with,  until  she  reached  the  foot 


244  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

of  the  stairs,  where  he  was  waiting  expressly  to  present 
her  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  Mr.  Leigh  had  mentioned 
the  evening  before  that  a  parishioner  of  his  would  proba 
bly  come  to  take  rooms  for  a  few  weeks  at  Capt.  Gaw 
throp's  ;  but  he  did  not  know  then  that  she  had  already 
arrived,  and,  although  he  Inmself  had  seen  her  from  the 
gallery  when  she  came  into  the  church,  Monny  had  not 
seen  her:  so  this  introduction  was  a  little  sudden  to 
her. 

Now,  Monny  was  a  lady,  and  being  presented  to  a 
stranger  was  not  ordinarily  an  ordeal  to  make  her  blush 
with  diffidence.  But,  as  she  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt,  a  blush  —  so  intense  that  Mr.  Leigh  had  never 
seen  her  blush  so  before,  save  once  —  must  needs  sweep 
her  face,  suffusing  even  her  white  brow  with  a  faint 
pink,  and  fanning  her  cheeks  into  that  marvellous  bright 
bloom  which  Monny's  color  was  at  its  highest.  It  was, 
perhaps,  the  sudden  surprise  of  the  lady's  great  beauty, 
so  impressive  to  her  artist's  eye,  and  partly  the  fact  of 
her  being  Mr.  Leigh's  parishioner,  and  probably,  still 
more,  the  peculiar  scrutiny  with  which  the  long-lashed 
gray  eyes  of  the  New- York  stranger  explored  her  young 
face.  Then  she  blushed,  of  course,  to  find  herself  blush 
ing  ;  and,  as  a  part  of  her  little  nervous  flutter,  her  left 
hand  (both  hands  were  bare,  as  she  had  just  come  from 
playing  the  organ)  went  up  with  some  unconscious  move 
ment  to  the  curl  of  hair  falling  on  her  shoulder. 

Beautiful  women  instinctively  observe  each  other's 
points.  They  are  apt,  especially,  to  observe  both  the 
point1:  in  which  they  themselves  excel  and  those  in 
whi  ;h  they  are  deficient.  Now,  each  of  these  women 
had  in  a  different  way  a  very  rare  beauty  of  complexion. 
Monny's  order  of  complexion  was  one  common  enough 
among  the  soft-skinned  American  girls  :  the  rarity  in  her 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  245 

case  was  only  in  the  perfection  of  the  kind :  it  was  the 
absolute  perfection  of  a  transparent  rose-and-white  skin. 
But  Mrs. 'Van  Cortlandt's  complexion  was  not  only  a 
perfect  one  of  its  style,  but  the  style  itself  was  extremely 
rare.  The  fairest  Circassian  beauties,  perhaps,  have 
something  such  a  skin,  — of  texture  and  tint  so  tirm  and 
pure  as  really  to  suggest  breathing  marble,  the  white 
ness  having  only  so  much  of  a  creamy  glow  as  belongs  to 
the  hues  of  living  flesh,  and  not  of  stone.  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt,  well  accustomed  to  know  that  her  paleness 
was  more  beautiful  than  all  the  color  of  most  fresh- 
colored  faces,  would  probably  anywhere  in  the  world  have 
noticed  a  complexion  like  Monny's,  beautiful  enough  to 
make  her  silently  debate  whether  her  own  was  really  to 
be  preferred  or  no.  And  the  beauty  of  Monny's  little 
hand  she  would  certainly  have  observed  anywhere,  for  an 
opposite  reason :  her  own  hands  were  extremely  ugly. 
They  were  very  well  in  gloves ;  kid  gloves  being  appar 
ently  shaped  to  fit  lean  and  ugly  hands.  A  really  beauti 
ful  hand  can  seldom  be  perfectly  gloved.  But  one  cannot 
wear  gloves  always ;  and,  divested  of  these  coverings, 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  showed  a  hand  so  bony  and  large- 
jointed  as  to  be  hard  to  the  touch  even,  for  all  the 
luxurious  softness  of  her  life.  And.  because  of  the  cur 
rent  notion  that  hands  are  peculiarly  a  sign  of  lineage, 
this  defect  was  more  vexatious  than  would  be  believed 
to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  pride. 

Now,  these  two  personal  points  about  Monny,  which 
tho  widow  would  have  noted  anywhere,  she  had  noted 
somewhere  in  her  life  before.  Yes,  she  grew  certain  that 
she  had  seen  just  that  strikingly  vivid  blush,  that  peerless 
hand,  yes,  that  very  movement  of  that  hand,  before. 
This  impression  of  reminiscence  came  to  her  with  her 
very  first  look  into  Monny's  flushing  face  ;  and  although, 


246  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

as  that  face  regained  its  more  normal  hues,  and  the 
young  lady's  manner  its  usual  composure,  the  sense  of 
likeness  to  some  one  seen  elsewhere  was  lost  a  little,  still 
her  first  impression  had  been  too  strong  to  be  shaken : 
somewhere  on  the  earth  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  was  sure  she 
had  beheld  this  girl  before ;  where,  she  could  not  as  yet 
recall.  But,  as  she  stood  uttering  her  graceful  common* 
places  to  the  maiden,  she  was  inwardly  following  that 
laffling  clew  of  suggestion,  feeling  that  she  should  yet 
seize  it  when  she  was  alone. 

Meanwhile,  as  the  two  ladies  exchanged  the  conven 
tional  remarks  of  a  first  introduction,  Mr.  Leigh  turned 
to  greet  one  and  another  who  had  waited,  out  of  the 
little  congregation,  to  pay  their  Sunday  respects  to  him. 
There  were  such  a  number  of  these,  and  they  had  such 
manner  of  communications  to  make,  as  almost  to  suggest 
that  the  rector  of  St.  Ancient's  had  "taken  duty"  al 
this  Orthodox  church.  And  indeed,  although  he  had 
never  yet  preached  in  its  pulpit,  he  had  attended  so  cor 
dially  to  some  contingencies  of  more  private  ministerial 
service  which  had  befallen  in  the  absence  of  the  regular 
pastor,  that  the  latter  had  been  enabled  to  prolong  his 
California  visit  for  an  extra  period,  through  the  kindness 
of  this  distinguished  sojourner  in  his  parish. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  not  lost  a  movement  of  Mr. 
Leigh's  since  Monny  came  down-stairs ;  and,  guarded  as 
was  his  manner  in  public  towards  the  maiden,  the  widow 
had  yet  discerned  some  hints  in  that  manner  which  did 
not  add  to  her  tranquillity.  Possibly  something  of  a 
lover's  pride  would  pierce  even  through  the  mere  little 
ceremonial  of  introducing  the  young  lady  to  his  New- 
York  parishioner.  And  then  again,  while  he  was  engaged 
with  those  villagers  who  had  staid  to  speak  to  him,  he 
stooped  once,  and  picked  up  the  girl's  pocket-hand  ker- 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  247 

chief  for  her  as  it  was  accidentally  dropped.  This  waa 
certainly  the  slightest  and  most  ordinary  of  all  conven 
tional  courtesies  due  from  gentlemen  to  ladies  ;  but  for 
Kenyon  Leigh  to  render  that  courtesy  just  then  was  not 
an  ordinary  thing,  as  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew.  Cer 
tainly,  as  a  well-bred  man,  Mr.  Leigh  dutifully  picked 
up  the  pocket-handkerchiefs  of  contiguous  ladies,  when 
he  saw  them  fall ;  but  he  was  extremely  apt  not  to  see 
them.  And  the  angle  of  vision  to  him  at  which  that 
pocket-handkerchief  had  fallen,  as  he  stood  turned  away 
from  the  ladies,  giving  audience  to  his  villagers,  was  an 
angle  at  which  he  never  would  have  perceived  the  fall  of 
a  feminine  pocket-handkerchief  —  in  the  past. 

There  are  two  classes  of  men  who  can  see  a  lady's 
movements  perfectly  well  with  the  back  of  their  heads. 
One  is  the  lover,  who  has  this  remarkable  vision  with 
respect  to  one  particular  woman  only ;  and  the  other  is 
what  may  be  called  the  born  lover  of  the  whole  sex. 
This  latter  man,  in  the  atmosphere  of  charming  women, 
is  genuinely  pre-occupied  with  them,  finds  every  thing 
else  less  charming  :  he  cannot  miss  any  chance  of  serving 
them,  because  he  never  for  an  instant  forgets  them.  The 
assiduities  of  this  knight  —  when  he  is  a  man,  and  not  a 
mere  beauish  monkey  —  make  the  petits  soins  dear  to  the 
hearts  of  women  (or  just  as  dear  to  their  vanity,  when 
they  have  no  hearts)  ;  for  the  evident  fact  that  he  pleases 
himself  in  the  pleasing  courtesies  he  renders  is  the  most 
delicate  of  all  possible  tributes. 

Mr.  Leigh  had  never  belonged  to  this  class  of  men. 
No :  it  must  be  confessed  concerning  him,  that  Eve  was 
not  more  distinctly  a  new  creation  to  Adsjn,  when  he 
first  beheld  her  in  the  garden,  than  had  been  woman  to 
Ken^on  Leigh  in  the  person  of  Monny  Rivers,  when  he 
Woke  from  his  deep  sleep  of  thirty- four  years  to  watch 


248  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

that  maiden  walking  under  Mrs.  Doane's  apple-trees,  and 
see  in  her  the  incarnation  of  a  sex  whom  it  was  man'a 
one  want  and  joy  to  wait  on.  A  being  whom  he  was 
possessed  by  a  desire  to  communicate  with,  to  make  her 
look  1 1  him,  if  only  in  anger  —  the  impossibility  of  losing 
her  out  of  his  own  consciousness  made  it  somehow  un 
bearable  to  be  himself  lost  out  of  hers.  He  would  have 
lik^d  her  to  spill  her  pocket-handkerchiefs  from  morning 
till  night,  that  he  might  recall  himself  to  her  by  picking 
them  up.  Such  having  been  his  state  of  mind  in  those 
early  days,  naturally,  in  the  present  riper  ones,  he  had 
so  blossomed  in  petits  soins  towards  Monny,  that  he  for 
got  himself  even  in  the  church-entry,  far  enough  to  use 
his  lover's  faculty  of  following  her  every  motion  whether 
she  was  within  his  apparent  optical  range  or  not.  And 
this  new  grace  of  gallantry  in  Kenyon  Leigh  was  noted 
by  the  widow  as  something  which  had  certainly  descended 
on  him  since  she  saw  him  last.  What  was  its  quality  and 
extent?  she  mused.  Had  the  back  of  his  head  become 
transmittant  of  vision  as  to  all  fair  women,  or  only  one? 

Silently  she  pondered  this  question,  but  finally  decided 
not  to  drop  her  own  pocket-handkerchief  to  see. 


The  trio  all  went  home  by  separate  ways  after  leaving 
the  church-entry.  That  is,  Mr.  Leigh  lifted  his  hat  in 
farewell  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  only  a  short  distance  be 
yond  the  meeting-house  grounds,  leaving  her  then  to  go 
along  the  main  street  to  Capt.  Gawthrop's,  while  he 
turned  up  the  lane  leading  to  Skipper  Benway's  cottage. 
For  Mrs.  Doane  had  spoken  a  word  to  him  after  church, 
reporting  the  sick  man,  who  was  dying  of  a  rapid  con 
sumption,  as  enjoying  one  of  his  more  comfortable  days, 
and  desirous  to  see  Mr.  Leigh,  whom  he  had  conceived  a 
great  adoration  for,  if  he  could  conveniently  call  after 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  240 

morning  church.  Accordingly,  the  minister  was  going 
round  that  way  before  returning  home ;  while,  jvs  for 
Monny,  her  way  was  along  the  main  street,  in  the  oppo 
site  direction. 

The  lady  she  had  just  parted  with  had  stirred  no 
memory  whatever  in  the  girl's  mind  of  having  been  seen 
before :  nevertheless,  on  Monny's  side  too,  the  interview 
had  left  very  peculiar  impressions.  So  she  was  not  sorry 
to-day  to  part  soon  from  the  village  acquaintances  whose 
way  joined  hers  for  a  little  along  the  main  street,  and  to 
go  on  alone  with  her  absorbing  thoughts  over  the  quiet 
road  which  took  her  home. 


250  A  EEVEREND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MRS.  DOANE  had  reached  home  somewhat  earlier 
than  Monny  did  ;  and  having  seen  that  the  luncheon- 
table,  which  Susannah  had  spread,  was  all  right,  —  on 
Sunday  dinner  was  served  between  four  and  five  o'clock, 
—  she  had  gone  up-stairs  to  water  some  house-plants 
which  filled  a  window  in  the  little  upper  hall  of  the  house, 
and  which  the  extra  duties  of  Sunday  morning  had  left 
untended  till  now.  She  was  moving  the  plants  out  of  the 
direct  sunshine,  that  watering  at  this  meridian  hour  might 
not  injure  them,  when  Monny  arrived,  and  came  musingly 
up  the  stairs,  breaking  impulsively  out  of  her  revery, 
when  she  saw  the  widow,  with,  — 

l-  O  aunt  Persy  !  did  you  see  how  perfectly  beautiful  is 
that  friend  of  Mr.  Leigh's,  —  the  lady  who  has  come  to 
board  at  Capt.  Gawthrop's?  " 

"  Yes,  I  saw  her,"  said  Mrs.  Doane,  plucking  a  with 
ered  leaf  or  two  from  a  luxuriant  begonia.  "  She  has  a 
face  to  be  seen." 

' '  The  most  wonderful  perfect  face  of  a  woman  I  ever 
saw  in  this  whole  world!  "  cried  enthusiastic  Monny  as 
she  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Do  you  really  think  that  she  is  handsomer  than  you 
are?"  involuntarily  asked  the  matron,  looking  down  on 
the  girl,  who  sat  radiant  in  the  reflected  lights  of  the 
sunny  window,  making  to  Mrs.  Doane' s  partial  fanc3r  a 
picture  much  more  attractive  than  the  lofty  lad^  who  had 
sat  so  coldly  alone  in  Capt.  Gawthrop's  pew. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  251 

"Me!  me!"  cried  Monny,  seeming  to  find  more  ex 
clamatory  power  in  somewhat  doubtful  grammar.  "My 
face  hasn't  the  very  first  foundation  of  handsome,  which 
is  a  nose." 

"  Now,  Miss  Monny,  whatever  is  the  matter  with  youi 
nose?"  asked  the  widow,  pausing,  watering-pot  in  hand, 
to  examine  this  hitherto  unsuspected  deficiency  in  Jie  fair 
face  before  her.  "  I'm  sure  it  isn't  a  crooked  nose  ;  and 
it's  neither  too  big,  nor  yet  too  small." 

"  Look  at  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  nose,  —  and  oh  the  line 
it  makes  with  her  forehead  and  her  upper  lip !  "  cried  the 
artist  adoringly,  —  "and  then  you  will  see  what's  the 
matter  with  my  nose  and  all  my  face.  See  what  it  would 
go  to  in  marble — my  face  !  "  pronounced  the  girl,  with  the 
most  impersonal  air  of  settling  that  physiognomy  forever. 
"  Let  any  sculptor  make  an  exact  portrait  head  of  me, 
and  then  you  would  see  that  I  haven't  a  feature,  — not  a 
feature." 

"  Oh  !  "  was  all  that  the  Cape-Cod  woman  could  reply  ; 
since,  in  her  idea  of  the  meaning  of  words,  Monny's  ex 
pressive  face  was  the  very  last  face  in  the  world  that  could 
be  called  featureless.  Then  she  silently  concluded  it  a 
wise  provision  of  Heaven,  to  save  from  the  snare  of  vanity 
a  girl  whose  looks  had  been  praised  ever  since  she  was 
born,  that  she  should  rate  herself  at  this  nothingness. 

"  But  if  you  were  to  cut  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  face  out 
in  wood  or  paper,"  Monny  went  on,  "  draw  the  barest  out 
line  of  it  —  any  thing  that  would  show  its  .beautiful  forms 
would  show  all  the  wonderful  perfect  face  it  is.  Real 
beauty  is  bred  in  the  bone,"  declared  the  artist.  "  It 
is  not  true  at  all,  that  it  is  merely  skin  deep.  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt's  complexion  is  beautiful  as  the  moonlight  on 
the  snow :  but,  if  the  flesh  of  her  face  was  all  faded  anJ 
fuirowed  and  shrunken,  you  would  still  see  the  perfect 


252  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

structure  beneath ;  some  of  its  beauty  can  never,  never 
die.  That  is  a  face  to  have  !  "  concluded  the  maid,  with 
such  a  lowly  sigh  Mrs.  Doane  sufficiently  forgot  the  prof 
itableness  of  small  self-esteem  in  young  ladies  as  to  their 
looks,  to  say,  — 

"Now,  Miss  Monny,  do  you  not  know  what  a  pretty 
g>  :•!  you  are  yourself  ?  ' ' 

•'Oh  anybody  can  be  a  pretty  girl !"  replied  Monny 
slightingly, —  "any  girl  who  has  not  a  particularly  bad 
complexion,  or  awkward  figure,  or  some  such  severe  draw 
back.  Prettiness  is  cheap  as  can  be.  You  have  only 
to  consider  your  own  personal  points  a  little,  so  as  to  wear 
what  is  most  becoming.  But  a  beautiful  woman,  beauti 
ful  as  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  is  beautiful,  need  not  dress 
at  all ;  that  is,  she  can  wear  the  very  costume  of  the 
noblest  art,  which  is  always  mere  plain  drapery.  And 
she  can  put  her  hair  away  all  smooth  and  close,  without  a 
wave  or  a  crinkle,  into  a  simple  low  knot  behind,  and  look 
like  a  queen  as  well  as  a  Madonna,  —  every  thing  that  is 
elegant,  as  well  as  every  thing  that  is  most  spiritually 
lovely.  Indeed,  to  wear  your  hair  as  opposite  as  possible 
to  the  prevailing  fashion  —  especially  when  you  wear  it  in 
the  direction  of  simplicity,  and  the  fashion  is  elaborate  — 
will  always  make  a  woman  look  either  perfectly  distin 
guished,  or  perfectly  dowdy ;  only,  in  ninety-nine  women 
out  of  a  hundred,  it  will  have  merely  the  dowdy  effect. 
You  see,  all  the  elaborations  of  coiffure,  all  adornments  of 
dress  of  every  kind,  have  been  invented,  not  in  the  interest 
of  the  truly  beautiful  woman,  but  to  make  the  best  of 
all  the  flimsy  order  of  looks  —  such  as  mine,"  concluded 
Monuy,  with  another  of  those  abased  sighs  that  she  had 
been  heaving  during  this  colloquy. 

So  dejected  was  it,  Mrs.  Doane  again  so  forgot  her 
prudence  as  to  say,  "  Now,  my  dear,  do  you  really  con- 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  253 

sider  yourself  one  of  those  girls  whose  good  looks  are  all 
in  their  furbelows?  Many's  the  time  that  I 've  thought 
you  look  prettier  wheu  you  come  running  home  from  the 
beaeh  through  the  rain,  in  your  oldest  black  waterproof 
cloak,  than  in  most  anything  you  wear.  And  although 
that  New- York  hat  you've  got  on  to-day  is  mighty  becom 
ing  (and  I  never  saw  you  in  a  regular  dressed-up  hat  that 
was  more  so),  still  the  white  gypsy  Mr.  Leigh  brought  you 
is  a  grain  prettier  on  you  still ;  for  I've  always  noticed 
you  -  everyday  hats  are  a  little  more  becoming  to  you  than 
any  dressed-up  hat,  howsoever  pretty." 

"That's  because  I've  got  no  features,  and  wide  hat- 
brims  harmonize  me  a  little." 

Harmonizing  hat-brims  were  to  Mrs.  Doane  a  flight 
beyond  even  Monuy's  recurring  monomania  about  destitu 
tion  of  features,  so  she  found  no  answer  to  make  ;  and  the 
girl  murmured,  in  an  under-current  of  thought,  — 

"  But  I  can't  wear  wide  hat-brims  to  church,  nor  old 
black  waterproof  cloaks.  And  the  style  which  does  not 
become  me,  aunt  Persy,"  she  added  with  conviction,  "is 
the  dressed-up  style  of  grave  dignity ;  such  a  style  as 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's,  which  is  dressed  up,  I  mean,  in 
the  sense  of  its  being  a  proper  attire  to  appear  at  church 
in,  or  in  a  city  street.  All  those  full  Watteau  folds  and 
wide-hanging  sleeves  of  her  plain  mantle  had  the  simplest 
majestic  grace  on  her,  but  they  would  mop  me  up  into 
the  dowdiest  bundle.  I  haven't  the  figure  for  it." 

"Now,  Miss  Monny,  there  never  could  be  a  mortal 
woman  with  a  better  shape  than  yours,  down  to  the  end1! 
of  your  fingers." 

"You  have  to  dress  to  your  face,"  insisted  the  young 
Hebe,  "  3Tonr  whole  general  appearance;  and  you  wjuld 
sec  that  my  figure  is  not  equal  to  that  style  of  dress.  I 
am  not  tall  enough  for  very  long  lines  in  my  costume, 


254  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

except  when  I  wear  a  train.  But  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt, 
without  adding  an  inch  of  train  to  her  native  height,  in 
just  a  street  walking-dress,  is  tall  enough  for  all  the  lines 
made  by  long  hanging  veils  and  Watteau  mantles.  It  is 
a  great  gift,"  sighed  Monny  again  so  deeply,  Mrs.  Doane 
laughed  out,  — 

4 'Child,  I  think  you  have  gone  out  of  your  head, 
a' most,  about  that  lady.  She  is  a  very  imposing-looking 
person,  I  grant.  But  the  Lord  has  made  us  all :  and  she 
has  no  greater  Maker  than  the  humblest,"  declared  the 
widow,  secretly  wondering  if  the  strange  lady  could  have 
dared  to  look  at  Monny  with  any  such  haughty  stare  as 
she  had  turned  on  herself  in  the  church-entry ;  for  Mrs. 
Doane  had  been  obliged  to  deliver  her  sick  man's  message 
to  Mr.  Leigh  while  he  stood  there  talking  with  his  New- 
York  parishioner. 

"Indeed,  aunt  Persy,"  solemnly  insisted  Monny,  "it 
is  a  very  great  gift  to  have  such  a  face  and  figure  as 
that ;  for  it  enables  you  to  follow  in  your  very  dress  the 
law  of  the  grand  simplicities.  You  do  not  have  to  modify 
it  to  your  own  imperfections  and  small  style.  You  see, 
with  most  women,  dress  must  always  be  a  compromise 
between  their  taste  in  the  abstract  and  the  necessity  of 
considering  their  own  personal  peculiarities.  That  fact 
does  not  seem  to  be  always  recognized,"  said  Monny, 
with  the  gravity  which  she  put  into  all  this  arguing.  "  I 
remember,  for  instance,  to  have  read  in  a  social  essay  by 
some  man,  that  you  could  judge  of  a  woman's  character 
more  by  the  way  she  wore  her  hair  than  by  any  thing 
else.  Now,  that  is  not  true,  except  with  very  important 
modifications,"  declared  Monny  weightily.  "It  is  true, 
for  example,  that  plain  hair  on  the  brow  looks  serious 
and  simple  ;  while  crimps,  by  comparison,  look  frivolous 
and  artificial.  But  it  is  also  true  that  fluffed  hair  softens 


A   KEVEREND   IDOL.  255 

the  line  of  the  forehead,  and  can  be  arranged  over  it  so 
as  to  bring  many  an  imperfect  face  into  a  little  truer 
measurements,"  urged  the  artist.  u  So,  although  nobody 
would  ever  think  of  painting  the  Virgin  Mary  with  little 
curls  dropping  over  her  forehead,  or  such  a  face  as  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt's,  all  whose  divisions  are  true  to  the  abso 
lute  ideal  of  art  —  crimps  are  yet  favorable  to  my  fore 
head,  for  instance,  which  is  too  high  "  — 

Patiently,  even  on  the  Lord's  Day,  had  the  pious 
Orthodox  dame  listened  to  these  themes  thus  far;  but 
Monny's  last  point  of  self-criticism  seemed  to  her  com 
pletely  crazy. 

4 i  Really,  now!  if  a  good  broad  forehead  isn't  a  fine 
point  in  a  woman,  as  showing  that  there's  room  in  her 
head  for  sense,  what  is?"  broke  in  the  astonished  New- 
England  woman,  who  could  never  have  been  brought  to 
appreciate  the  Greek  ideal  of  feminine  beauty.  "La, 
child !  if  you  will  put  an  extra  touch,  sometimes,  on  your 
natural  curly  locks  with  crimping-pins,  and  shake  them 
down  in  a  way  that  does  no  justice  at  all  to  your  fore 
head,  I  can  stand  it ;  because,  as  soon  as  ever  you  get 
absorbed  in  any  thing,  you  push  your  hair  right  up,  and 
show  what  a  nice  full  forehead  you've  got  under  the 
crimps,"  said  Mrs.  Doane,  comfortably  informing  Monny 
what  a  dead  failure  was  her  simulation  of  a  Greek  brow. 
"  What  I  was  going  to  say  was,  crinkly  hair,  one  way  or 
another,  is  as 'natural  to  you  as  straight  hair  to  that  tall 
lady,  who  certain  is  too  tall  to  have  curls  and  crimps 
flying.  I  thought  myself,  when  I  first  saw  her  standing 
up  in  the  church,  with  her  head  clear  up  to  the  heads  of 
the  men,  and  quite  above  so  many  of  'em,  that  she  was 
too  lull  a  woman  ever  to  look  well  anyway,"  declared  the 
widow,  unable  to  forbear  this  small  dig  of  criticism  at 
the  lady  who  had  so  managed  to  upset  Monny's  usually 


256  A  KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

well-balanced  sense.  "  She  looked  all  right,  to  be  sure, 
when  she  stood  by  Mr.  Leigh  in  the  entry.  I  grant  that, 
put  her  beside  him,  they  make  a  pair  most  striking  and 
grand  to  look  at,"  repeated  good  Mrs.  Doaiie,  being 
already  conscientiously  moved  to  soften  the  invidious 
remark  she  had  let  slip  about  a  stranger,  and  Mr.  Leigh's 
parishioner. 

4 'Missis,  missis!"  here  sounded  in  startling  outcry 
from  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  "  De  ole  yaller  hen  dat's 
been  missin'  dese  tree  weeks,  jess  come  cluckin'  up  to  de 
back  door,  grand  as  can  be,  wid  ten  new  chickens !  De 
pore  ole  fool !  — when  de  winter  storms'll  be  blowin'  afore 
ebber  dey  grow  dere  fedders  !  "  At  this  summons  frorr 
Susannah,  the  matron  quitted  her  plants  and  the  maiden  ; 
for  the  latter  did  not  follow  her  down-stairs,  even  so  excit 
ing  an  event  as  a  brood  of  late  chickens  not  having  power  to 
draw  Monny  out  of  the  present  current  of  her  thoughts. 

Mrs.  Doane's  last  words  had  inadvertently  struck  the 
very  keynote  of  all  those  thoughts.  Monny  had  seen 
nothing  all  the  way  home  from  church  but  just  those  two 
figures  beside  each  other,  —  Mr.  Leigh  and  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt.  They  were  emphatically,  as  to  looks,  a  man 
and  woman  of  whom  all  beholders  sensitive  to  harmoni 
ous  looks  involuntarily  think,  "  AVhat  a  pair  they  would 
make!"  Both  of  them  were  so  above,  respectively,  tbe 
average  stature  of  man  and  woman,  yet  so  perfectly  pu- 
portioned  to  each  other  in  height,  —  to  see*  them  as  they 
stood,  the  man  glorious  in  his  strength,  the  woman  in  her 
great  beauty,  one  might  say  indeed  that  the  gods  had 
( ome  down  to  dwell  among  men.  And  there  were  even 
finer  correspondences  to  the  eye  in  the  pair  than  these : 
for,  if  Mr.  Leigh  had  an  air  of  nobleness  which  is  never 
found  independent  of  character,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  an 
air  of  fine  distinction  ;  and,  although  that  air  can  perfectly 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  257 

exist  without  any  character  at  all,  the  difference  between 
it  and  the  former  mien  is  not  always  discernible  at  first 
glance,  even  by  more  experienced  observers  than  an 
ardent  girl. 

Monny  could  not  doubt  in  these  days  that  Mr.  Leigh 
had  chosen  herself  to  be  his  wife,  without  doubting  the 
honor  of  the  man.  Nor  in  these  days  could  this  young 
heart  conceive  of  the  remarriage  of  a?  widow  but  as  a 
profanation.  Monny  had  not  got  far  enough  yet  in  this 
world  of  mistakes  to  know  how  often  a  second  marriage 
is  a  much  truer  one  than  the  first.  But  if  the  maiden's 
fancy  could  not  whisper  of  her  own  lover  and  of  this 
woman  shrined  in  her  widowhood,  "  She  might  be  a  wife 
for  Mr.  Leigh,"  it  did  whisper,  "Mr.  Leigh's  wife  ought 
to  look  like  that." 

Monny  had  forgotten  that  there  was  any  human  opinion 
for  her  outside  of  the  approval  of  one  man  :  the  world  of 
persons,  since  she  had  fallen  in  love,  had  been  all  simpli 
fied  to  her  into  one  person,  whom  alone  she  cared  to 
please,  until  now,  when  her  very  absorption  in  this  sole 
being  suddenly  caused  her  such  a  solicitude  about  the 
opinion  of  others  as  she  had  never  felt  before  in  all  her 
life.  The  sense  of  a  world  fastidious  and  critical,  to 
whose  judgment  she  was  exposed  in  a  new,  strange  way, 
and  with  some  new,  strange  need  to  be  honored  in  it  that 
another  might  not  lose  honor  through  her,  —  this  feeling 
had  begun  in  her  with  that  first  searching  glance  of  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt,  which  had  so  troubled  her  young  cheek 
with  blushes  ;  and  its  trouble  wrought  obscurely  in  her 
jtill.  She  went  now  to  her  own  room  ;  and.  in  our  aim  to 
confess 'unto  all  the  truth  as  it  is  in  woman,  it  must  be 
confessed  that  she  marched  straight  to  the  looking-glass 
there,  and  took  a  long  survey  of  herself,  first  in  the  hat 
ste  had  worn  to  church,  then  in  the  other  hat  which  Mr. 


258  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Leigh  had  brought  her.  Still  worse,  she  even  proceeded 
to  the  trying-on  of  some  of  her  old  hats,  —  Gainsboroughg 
and  gypsies,  — pretty  caprices  of  head-rigging  for  out-of- 
town  summer-wear.  As  Monny  tried  on  these  girlish 
hats,  seeing  all  the  while  above  her  head  in  the  glass  that 
Madonna  face  of  the  lady  from  St.  Ancient's,  she  seemed 
to  herself  a  very  cheap  person,  that  she  should  have  the 
kind  of  face  which  this  coquettish  manner  of  hats  espe 
cially  became,  —  things  that  you  could  no  more  imagine  on 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  head,  she  inwardly  reflected,  than 
on  the  Mater  Dolorosa's.  There  was,  indeed,  some  sub 
stance  of  truth,  probably,  in  the  girl's  artist-remark  about 
the  harmonizing  effect  of  wide  hat-brims  on  irregular 
features  ;  for  it  was  noticeable  that  any  hat  broad  enough 
to  isolate,  as  it  were,  her  radiant  face,  made  a  picture  of 
Monny  at  once ;  while  the  close-brimmed,  conventional 
little  piece  of  millinery,  half  hat,  half  bonnet,  which  was 
the  most  correct  shape  of  the  time  for  street-wear,  was 
only  truly  becoming  to  her  in  a  hat  as  exquisitely  chosen 
as  was  that  blue  trimmed  chip,  in  buying  which  Mr.  Leigh 
had  shown  such  powers  of  divination.  There  began  to 
be  a  little  poignancy,  even  in  the  tender  thoughts  which 
had  made  these  remarkable  lover's  gifts  so  deeply  sacred 
to  Monny.  Mr.  Leigh,  perhaps,  wished  her  to  know,  she 
mused,  that  he  was  content  for  her  to  wear  such  hats  as 
would  make  the  best  of  her ;  but  doubtless  he  would 
have  been  more  content  if  she  had  had  a  face  which  could 
afford  to  be  as  indifferent  about  its  bonnet  as  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt. 

In  making  these  disclosures  of  the  mental  exercises  of 
a  young  lady  on  coming  home  from  church,  we  have 
nowhere  attempted  to  disguise  the  fact  that  they  had  to 
do  with  very  sadly  superficial  matters.  Nor  can  it  be 
disguised,  as  we  go  onward  with  her  history,  thuit  here  the 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  259 

girl's  fate  struck  her,  in  her  sensitive  desire  —  overween 
ing,  if  it  must  be  called  so  —  to  be  just  what  she  should 
be  in  the  mere  external  appearance.  The  woman  who 
was  to  meddle  so  darkly  with  her  fate  began  her  power 
over  her  at  this  point,  and  began  it  from  the  very  first 
moment. 

No  conscious  reserve  or  discount  was  in  Monny's  admi 
ration  for  Mr.  Leigh's  beautiful  parishioner,  who  seemed 
to  her  at  all  points  the  perfect  ideal  of  womanhood.  But 
the  perfect  beings  who  send  their  admirers  home  with  a 
particularly  severe  consciousness  that  their  noses  are  out 
of  joint,  and  an  impulse  to  try  on  all  their  head-gear  to 
see  if  there  is  any  thing  in  which  their  insignificance  may 
dare  stand  before  them,  must  be  classed  among  those 
beings  who  impress  their  own  perfections  as  a  standard 
from  which  it  is  a  sign  of  defect  to  vary.  Whether  one 
woman  who  feels  herself  criticised  by  another  is  always 
moved  to  consider  first  if  something  in  her  dress  may  not 
be  amiss,  we  need  not  decide.  Certain  it  was,  that  all 
Mouny's  babble  on  that  subject  to-day  had  been  moved 
by  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt ;  and  apparently  her  soul  was  not 
fully  eased  yet,  for  she  went  down-stairs  now  from  the 
looking-glass  to  babble  a  little  more. 

"  Aunt  Persy,"  she  resumed,  finding  the  old  lady  just 
returned  to  the  sitting-room,  after  reviewing  the  autumn 
chickens,  —  "you  see,  aunt  Persy,  besides  all  the  rest, 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  style  of  dress  is  that  of  a  very 
select  upper  few  in  society :  it  is  the  shabby  aristocratic 
style,  which  is  the  most  exclusive  of  any  thing." 

"Oh"! "  rejoined  the  widuw,  to  whom  the  conjunction  of 
those  two  adjectives  conveyed  no  very  definite  meaning. 

"  I  did  not  suppose  it  prevailed  so  much  in  New  York 
as  in  jome  other  places,"  thoughtfully  added  the  young 
lady.  "  In  Moralmount,  for  instance,  some  of  the  finest, 


260  A  KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

the  truly  finest,  ladies  always  dress  with  that  distin 
guished  shabbiness  on  the  street ;  and  it  is  a  style  very 
characteristic  of  the  great  ladies  in  Europe,  in  England 
especially,  if  ever  they  go  out  on  foot  at  all  in  the  city." 

"You  are  talking  about  the  people  who  have  seen 
better  days?"  hazarded  the  Cape-Cod  woman,  groping 
after  a  little  clearer  idea  as  to  what  the  shabby  aristocrat 
was. 

"  Oh,  no,  no!  not  the  shabby  genteel  style.  It  is  just 
the  opposite.  It  is  a  despising  of  the  genteel,  a  horror  of 
smartness  as  something  too  common,  too  much  within 
the  reach  of  everybody.  So  the  greatest  ladies,  who  can 
afford  any  thing,  and  who  dress  magnificently,  of  course, 
on  all  dress  occasions,  show  such  an  utter  indifference  to 
looks  and  fashion  in  their  walking-attire  as  no  merely  well- 
off  merchant's  wife  would  ever  do.  I  suppose,"  Monny 
went  on  musingly,  "this  refined  dowdiness  originated  at 
first  in  a  truly  good  and  sensible  idea,  —  that  of  shun 
ning  the  real  vulgarity  there  is  in  very  elegant  dressing 
on  the  street,  as  if  you  had  nowhere  else  to  show  your 
fine  clothes.  But  what  the  refined  dowdy  style  has  devel 
oped  into  is  an  affected  style  of  plainness,  —  not  affected 
by  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  but  by  most  ladies,  —  a  kind  of 
carelessness  in  dress,  which  is  very  carefully  studied  in 
deed,  and  one  of  the  most  laborious  of  all  styles  to  follow. 
It  would  be  for  me,  at  least.  I  should  make  mistakes  in 
it :  I  should  never  remember  to  observe  what  was  the  last 
new  wrinkle  it  had  adopted  to  show  itself  above  the 
fashion.  Certainly,  as  a  shabby  aristocrat,  I  should  be  a 
most  dead  failure,"  declared  Monny  dejectedly.  "  But," 
slowly  added  the  girl  after  an  anxious  pause,  "it  is  a 
style  of  dress  that  to  the  general  eye  looks  most  plain  and 
unpretending,  while  to  the  select  few  it  looks  select :  so  I 
suppose  it  would  recommend  one  all  round.  It  would 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  261 

seem   to  set  a  good  example.      I   have   never   thought 
about  setting  examples,  I  have  not  been  of  consequence 
enough,"  murmured  Monny,  still  with  a  troubled  look  in' 
her  hazel  eyes,  as  she  stood  leaning  meditatively  over  the 
baok  of  a  chair. 

The  old  woman,  guessing  well  the  future  into  which 
those  young  eyes  were  looking  to-day,  divining  what 
made  these  very  new  phrases  on  Monny's  lips  alv^nt 
r< '.commend  ing  herself  to  all  people,  had  patience  still,  as 
she  had  had  patience  up-stairs,  with  what  would  otherwise 
have  seemed  to  her  absurdly  undue  earnestness  on  the 
most  trivial  of  themes.  And  she  was  glad  to  hear  just 
now  that  quick,  impetuous  clash  of  the  gate  which  gener 
ally  announced  Mr.  Leigh's  coming,  trusting  that  the 
presence  of  the  minister  would  dispel  the  disquiet  which 
his  parishioner  had  unmistakably  brought. 

"  Miss  Monny  has  been  wondering,  sir,  whether  all  the 
ladies  in  your  church  have  such  faces  as  the  lady  who  has 
come  to  board  at  Capt.  Gawthrop's,"  said  Mrs.  Doane. 
speaking  first,  as  Mr.  Leigh  came  in. 

"Probably  not,"  he  returned,  smiling.  "I  believe 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  is  everywhere  acknowledged  to  be 
very  exceptionally  handsome." 

4 'Beautiful,  perfectly  beautiful,"  murmured  Monny,  a 
little  wondering  that  a  man  who  usually  chose  his  words 
so  well  did  not  choose  the  higher  and  more  appropi  iate 
adjective. 

B  it  there  was  only  one  woman  in  the  world  who  was 
beautiful  at  present  to  Kenyon  Leigh ;  and  he  had  used 
the  highest  word  he  could  afford,  even  for  Mrs.  Van 

Cortlandt. 

— — ^— — 

The  New- York  widow  went  from  the  church-entry  to 
her  lodgings  in  quite  as  absorbed  a  mood  as  Monny  had 


A   REVEREND    IDOL. 

walked  home  to  hers  :  she  was  wrapped  in  an  intense  effort 
to  make  memory  restore  intact  that  broken  chain  of  im 
pressions  which  so  haunted  her.  She  caught  the  links  at 
last.  Time,  place,  all  the  extraordinary  circumstances  in 
which  she  had  once  seen  a  young  girl  like  this  Monny 
Rivers,  rushed  clear  and  distinct  on  her  mind.  She  had 
seen  her  five  years  before,  afar  in  a  Southern  city  ;  and  she 
had  seen  her  on  her  journey  to  that  city,  —  so  strange  a 
journey,  so  strangely  accompanied, — it  was  an  immense 
discovery  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  the  discovery  that  this 
fellow-boarder  of  Mr.  Leigh's  was  identical  with  the 
heroine  of  those  remarkable  travels.  Was  she  the  same 
girl?  could  she  be  mistaken  in  a  likeness  which  had 
struck  her,  however  confusedly,  with  the  very  first  sight 
of  that  face  in  the  church-entry? 

Ere  nightfall  this  question,  which  grew  a  burning  one 
to  the  widow,  was  positively  answered.  It  happened  thus. 
Tonson  went  out  in  the  long  Sunday  afternoon  to  take  a 
small  airing  on  her  own  account,  and  returned  to  say,  — 

u  I  reckon,  my  lady,  that  Miss  Rivers  comes  over  after 
noons  to  lead  the  Sunday-school  singing  at  the  church. 
For  I  'card  the  closing  'ims  of  the  children  through  the 
windows,  and  see  'em  all  streamin'  out  pretty  soon,  an* 
among  'em  a  young  lady,  from  whose  looks  I  said  to 
myself,  c  That  must  be  the  belle  to  Mr.  Leigh's  boarding- 
place  they  talk  so  much  about/  So  asking  one  of  the 
children,  and  findin'  'twas  her  indeed,  I  made  bold  to  asfr 
the  young  lady  herself,  wen  she  came  along,  what  was  the 
nearest  way  to  the  water-side." 

The  useful  servitor,  having  well  discovered  that  her 
mistress  came  in  from  church  in  the  morning  vastly  more 
interested  in  Miss  Rivers  than  when  she  went  out,  had 
waylai  1  the  latter  on  purpose  thus  to  establish  some  speak 
ing  acquaintance  with  the  }7oung  lady  whom  she  might  have 
occasion  to  watch. 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  263 

"And  the  moment  she  spoke,"  Tonsori  went  on, 
"  Lord,  if  it  didn't  come  to  me  as  if  I'd  seen  that 
young  lady  before !  Yes,  when  she  turned  round,  and 
went  back  with  me  a  little  piece  to  show  where  the  road 
went  off,  all  her  ways  kep'  giving  me  that  blind  kind  of 
feeling  as  if  Itl  seen  'em  before.  But  I  couldn't  nowise 
remember  where,  till  sudden  a  little  mite  of  a  boy  came 
runniu'  out  of  a  'ouse,  and  called  out  to  her,  i  Ow  oo 
do,  Mitli  Monny  Wiverth  ?  Oo  want  to  make  my  picter 
again?'  An'  wen  I  'card  that  lispin'  child,  I  knew  in  a 
minnit  just  where  I'd  seen  her.  'Twas  in  New  Orleans, 
to  the  St.  Charles  'Otel,  five  years  ago,  wen  little  Alfie 
(Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  one  child)  was  alive,  an'  I  was  his 
nurse,  an'  you  'ad  Celeste  for  a  maid,  an'  we  went  to  New 
Orleans,  an'  this  Miss  Rivers  was  there  to  the  St.  Charles, 
where  we  staid.  But  of  course  you  didn't  notice  her 
yourself." 

The  pulses  of  the  languid  lady,  who  was  sitting  at  the 
moment  on,  the  edge  of  the  bed,  had  quickened  with  great 
throbs  at  these  words  ;  but  she  said,  with  all  outward  in 
difference,  "  I  have  been  asleep.  And  my  hair  has  fallen 
down.  Brush  it  out  well,  and  put  it  up  again.  You  think 
you  saw  this  Miss  Rivers  in  New  Orleans  five  years  ago? 
What  did  you  ever  see  in  the  girl,  Touson,  to  make  you 
remember  her  such  a  length  of  time?" 

u  Well,  my  lady,"  volubly  replied  the  maid,  as  she 
wielded  the  brushes,  "I  'appened  across  her  pretty  often 
UD  that  'otel  wen  I  was  leading  little  Alfie  round  the  ve- 
randay  to  take  the  air,  an'  he  asked  her,  the  way  little 
children  do.  wot  her  name  was.  An'  though  I  Vard  that 
name  last  night,  over  and  over,  from  'Annah  in  the  kitchen, 
I  'card  it  with  no  sense  nor  knowledge  that  I'd  ever  'eatd 
it  before,  till  that  lispin'  child,  runnin'  out  just  now,  was 
like  little  Alfie  calliu'  out  of  his  grave  again  a'most  them 


264  A   REVEREND    IDOL. 

same  words.  For  you  see,  one  mornin'  to  that 
Orleans  'otel,  wen  she  stepped  out  on  the  venmduy  where 
I  was  walkin',  little  Alfie  broke  away  from  me,  an'  run  up 
to  her,  an'  says  he,  '  Ow  oo  do,  Mith  Monny  Wiverth  ?  ' 
An  I  remember  as  she  stooped  down  an*  kissed  him.  an* 
stood  a-pettin'  him,  she  said,  '  What  a  picture  he  would 
make  ! '  They  do  say  she's  a  regular  hartist ;  and  pictures 
always  ruunin'  in  her  'ead  perhaps  made  her  speak  that 
way  to  New  Orleans,  an'  that  little  pipin'  child  to-day,  I 
s'pose  she's  took  the  picture  of  some  time." 

Even  when  the  rattling  lips  in  her  ear  touched  on  those 
reminiscences  of  her  dead  child,  the  absorbed  listener 
heard  only  what  related  to  the  schemes  which  she  would 
hide  close  even  from  this  minion  of  hers.  So,  noncha 
lantly  as  ever,  she  rejoined  to  the  latter,  — 

"I  will  have  some  lavender-water,  Tonson.  So  you 
really  fancy  the  girl  you  have  been  talking  of  was  this 
same  Miss  Rivers  ?  ' ' 

"  Certain'  of  it,  my  lady,  —  no  fancy  at  all.  I  remem 
bered  it  all  up  comin'''ome  just  now,  —  how  'twas  with 
Mrs.  Bingham  of  New  York  that  she  was  stayin'  there 
to  that  St.  Charles  'Otel.  An'  there  was  with  'em,  off 
and  on,  another  young  lady  and  young  gentleman.  Twin 
brother  and  sister  they  were,  an'  about  one  and  twenty, 
I  should  say,  for  age,  an'  as  'andsome  as  pictures,  both 
of  'em.  An'  they  was  orphans,  an'  belonged  to  Balti 
more,  but  'ad  come  down  to  New  Orleans  about  the:r 
property,  which  a  rich  uncle,  just  dying  there,  'ad  left 
'em  ;  an'  their  names  was  De  Lancey.  The  young  gentle 
man's  name,  I  remember,  was  Mr.  Carroll  De  Lancey." 

The  circumstantial  memory  is  likely  to  be  nowhere 
ft-und  in  such  perfection  as  in  the  lady's-maid  and  valet- 
de-chambre  class ;  for  the  ignorant  mind  being  vacant 
of  all  subjects  of  thought,  and  the  hands  untaxed  by  any 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  265 

arduous  labors,  the  whole  mental  activity  expends  itself 
in  watching  persons, — the  world  of  fine  persons,  which 
feeds  curiosit}7  the  more,  because  it  is  at  once  in  such 
juxtaposition  to,  and  so  utterly  rcmo/ed  from,  the  ser 
vant's  life.  Thus  no  human  testimony  could  have  been 
more  absolutely  conclusive  than  the  babble  of  this  gar 
rulous  maid,  overflowing  with  details,  and  giving,  at  last, 
the  very  names  which  proved,  beyond  all  possibility  of 
doubt,  the  identity  of  Miss  Rivers  with  that  girl  whom 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  so  suspected  and  hoped  that  she 
was. 

It  required  a  silent  moment  for  even  this  cool  woman  so 
to  master  her  sensations  as  to  say,  still  carelessly,  — 

"Of  course,  Tonson,  you  said  nothing  to  Miss  Rivers 
about  your  notion  of  having  seen  her  before?  " 

"  Laws,  no,  my  lady  !  I  'ope  I  know  my  place  better," 
promptly  replied  Tonson,  who  had  the  true  British  lower- 
class  instinct  for  abasing  one's  self  before  "  betters."  "I 
just  turned  round  and  come  home,  quite  struck  up  with 
thinking  how  curious  it  was  to  'ave  met  'liis  same  young 
lady  way  down  to  New  Orleans^  an'  way  'tre  to  Cape  Cod 
a-boardiu'  with  Mr.  Leigh." 

"  I  was  introduced  to  Miss  Rivers  at  that  meeting-house 
this  morning,"  slowly  pronounced  Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt. 
"  She  is  supposed,  therefore,  to  be  of  my  personal  ac 
quaintance  at  present.  There  is  no  reason  why  I  should 
appear  to  take  any  especial  interest  in  her." 

tk  Laws,  no,  my  lady  !  by  no  means,"  briskly  replied  the 
maid,  perfectly  understanding  this  as  a  direction  to  her 
self  to  do  all  possible  watching  of  Miss  Rivers  that  could 
be  done,  without  appearing  to  watch  her,  and  without  in- 
wolviiig  her  principal. 

"I  remember,"  Tonson  gossiped  on,  u  'aving  a  notion 
down  there  to  New  Orleans  that  the  'andsome  young 


266  A  EEVEKEND  IDOL. 

gentleman,  Mr.  Carroll  De  Lancey,  was  the  lover  of  tliat 
young  girl  whom  it  seems  was  Miss  Rivers.  But  I  sup 
pose  it  wasn't  so,  or  nothin'  came  of  it,  seeing  that  she's 
unmarried  yet.  'Twas  in  the  care  of  Mrs.  Bingham,  I 
s'pose,  that  she  went  on  that  long  journey  to  New  Orleans  ; 
for  I  remember  well  that  she  came  away  with  her :  so,  of 
course,  she  went  there  with  her." 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew  that  Monny  Rivers  did  not 
travel  to  New  Orleans  with  Mrs.  Bingham,  but  in  far 
other  company ;  but  she  made  no  reply,  except  to  indicate 
that  she  had  had  a  sufficiency  of  lavender-water. 

Tonson  put  away  the  lavender-water,  guessing  no  more 
than  that  bottle  in  her  hand  the  deep  plot  which  was 
slowly  taking  shape  inside  the  proud  head  whose  outside 
she  had  been  laving.  The  young  girl  whom  this  poor 
tool  had  so  artfully  contrived  to  meet  and  accost,  she  had 
no  malice  against :  her  only  aim  was  to  serve  her  own 
mistress  (who  rewarded  lavishly  certain  services)  ;  and  all 
the  dark  extent  to  which  she  had  served  that  lady  mistress 
to-day,  it  was  quite  beyond  Tonson' s  humble  wits,  cun 
ning  though  they  were,  to  imagine. 


A   KEVEKESD   IDOL.  267 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

MR.  LEIGH  politely  called  on  his  parishioner  sojourn 
ing  in  a  strange  place,  the  very  next  day  ;  and  never 
had  she  seen  him  in  brighter  spirits  or  more  cordial  humor. 
But  his  manner  profoundly  alarmed  the  lady  who  had 
come  to  Cape  Cod  to  marry  him.  In  truth,  nothing  is 
more  hopeless  for  the  bark  of  sentiment  to  put  to  sea  on 
than  a  certain  particularly  unchecked  flood  of  good  will  in 
the  behavior  of  a  being  of  the  opposite  sex :  love  is  not 
the  shore  to  which  that  loud  ocean  of  kindness  rolls. 

Possibly,  too,  the  heart  rang  hollow  from  beneath  all 
those  genial  phrases  of  the  caller,  with  some  of  that  hol- 
lowness  which  is  wont  to  lurk  in  the  best  conversational 
efforts  of  lovers  with  other  than  the  beloved  object. 
Touches  of  a  pre-occupation,  which  was  not  quite  the  old 
pre-occupation  of  the  man  of  books  and  study ;  slight 
lapses  of  forge tfulness,  too  hastily  and  brilliantly  covered 
not  to  be  a  little  conscious,  —  signs  like  these  may  have 
betrayed  the  man  guilty  of  that  abominable  affront  of 
talking  fluently  with  one  woman  while  all  his  thoughts  are 
with  another.  At  all  events,  when  her  friendly  caller 
departed,  black  was  the  mood  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 
Miss  Rivers  had  not  been  mentioned  during  the  interview, 
since  Mr.  Leigh  certainly  would  not  bring  Monny's  name 
casually  into  the  conversation,  and  as  vot  he  had  no  ac 
knowledged  right  to  speak  of  her  otherwise  than  casually ; 
while  the  widow,  silently  debating  whether  to  make  some 
allusion  to  the  young  fellow-boarder,  to  see  how  Mr.  Leigh 


268  A   REVEREND    IDOL. 

would  be  affected  by  it,  or  to  ignore  the  girl  as  a  being  too 
unimpoitant  to  be  inquired  after,  finally  decided  on  the 
latter  course,  for  she  was  a  woman  strong  enough  to  let 
policy  control  her  curiosity,  even  in  a  matter  that  she  had 
a  consuming  desire  to  know  more  about.  But  her  jealous 
thoughts  fastened  more  and  more  persistently  on  that  girl, 
and  on  the  weapon  which  fate  had  strangely  put  into  her 
own  hand  to  strike  the  rival  down,  if  this  astounding 
thing  could  be  true,  that  she  had  a  rival,  and  in  a  mere 
girl.  It  may  be  that  all  the  deadly  uses  of  that  weapon 
only  gradually  revealed  themselves  to  her :  still  even  to 
day  her  creeping  thoughts  felt  its  edge. 

Meanwhile,  to-day,  and  during  all  the  days  of  the 
present  week,  in  the  other  Cape-Cod  house  the  artist-girl 
toiled  early  and  late  at  her  picture  of  the  Knight-Templar. 
She  was  not  minutely  learned  in  the  history  of  any  of 
those  semi-military,  semi-religious  orders  among  the  chiv 
alry  of  the  middle  ages  ;  but  the  picture  was  no  anachro 
nism.  The  simple,  brave,  believing  spirit  —  it  is  the  hero's 
type  in  every  age  ;  and  this  face  of  a  man  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  marked  though  it  was  with  the  problems  of  his 
time,  still  looked  out  from  those  vanished  trappings  of 
the  Red-Cross  Knight  with  the  same  eternal  qualities  of 
character  which  make  even  mental  modes  like  mere  acci 
dents  of  costume.  The  figure  stood  in  the  simplest  pose  ; 
it  portrayed  no  crisis  of  action  ;  all  the  potentialities  of 
action  were  in  the  traits  of  the  face.  The  artist  wrought 
at  this  head  as  she  had  never  wrought  before.  She  hid 
herself  from  her  lover  to  perfect  his  image.  It  was  some 
thing  that  she  had  secretly  set  herself  to  do  before  she 
would  accept  his  love,  as  a  proof  that  she  was  not  all 
unworthy. 

"That  he  may  know  I  do  not  love  him  like  a  fool 
and  blind ;  that  I  have  counted  up  the  jewels  of  his  soul 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  269 

every  one  !  ".  she  murmured  to  herself,  and  "  Oh  to  make 
them  shine  in  his  face  !  "  she  cried  in  her  throbbing  young 
heart,  as  day  by  day  the  perfect  face  of  Kenyon  Leigh 
grow  on  the  canvas. 

"  As  when  a  painter,  poring  on  a  face, 
Divinely  through  all  hindrance  finds  the  man 
Behind  it;  and  so  paints  him  that  his  face, 
The  shape  and  color  of  a  mind  and  life, 
Lives  —  ever  at  its  best  and  fullest "  — 

Thus  was  it  that  the  artist  painted  Kenyon  Leigh's 
perfect  face.  His  features  were  not  faultless  according  to 
any  classical  standard.  But  sometimes  a  face  rich  in  the 
latter  kind  of  perfection  floated  before  her  in  its  adoles 
cent  beauty,  as  she  traced  the  strong  lineaments  of  the 
Knight-Templar  :  it  was  the  pictured  face  she  had  burned 
to  ashes  in  the  old  fireplace.  It  came,  however,  but  as  a 
faint  passing  memory,  merely  with  its  old  suggestion  of 
contrast  to  the  face  before  her :  the  latter,  and  the  man 
linked  to  it,  absorbed  all  her  being. 

She  had  purloined  a  card-photograph  of  Mr.  Leigh ; 
then,  too,  as  her  picture  advanced,  she  stole  a  kind  of 
sittings  after  the  following  manner ;  that  is,  coming  up 
the  front  stairs  from  dinner  with  her  invariable  escort,  she 
would  say  to  him,  as  she  did  one  afternoon,  "  I  am  going 
to  unlock  my  studio  by  and  by,  and  let  Mrs.  Doane  come 
hi  a  while  when  she  has  got  her  knitting  well  in  hand.*' 

44  And  myself  too?  "  very  eagerly  from  the  escort. 

"  If  >ou  will  promise  to  walk  straight  from  the  door  to 
the  same  corner  I  put  you  in  the  other  day." 

"  And  without  even  one  look  yet  at  the  mysterious  new 
picture?  " 

' ;  Not  a  look.  I  have  told  you  that  you  can  be  a  little 
useful  to  me  in  the  matter  of  —  shoulders.  Anybody  can 
sit  as  a  study  for  shoulders.  The  men  of  the  middle  ages 


270  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

were  large  creatures,  I  suppose.  I  wish  my  warrior  to 
have  the  right  proportions." 

44  Show  him  to  me,  and  I  can  point  out  all  his  faults  at 
once.  There  must  be  a  great  many  of  them,  painting  as 
you  do  in  this  solitary  exaltation  and  self -sufficiency.  It 
will  make  a  failure  of  your  warrior.  He  will  not  belong 
to  this  world." 

44  It  is  indeed  a  poor  world  for  him,"  averred  the 
maiden. 

4 'Quite  good  enough,"  testily  replied  Mr.  Leigh  —  ho 
was  getting  mortally  jealous  of  that  man  of  the  middle 
ages.  "  I  wish  to  see  him,  that  I  may  judge  of  his  pre 
tensions." 

44  You  mock  at  them  in  advance.  You  cannot  see 
him." 

By  this  time  the  studio-door  is  reached,  unlocked,  and 
the  maid,  watching  her  chance,  slips  swiftly  through  it, 
holding  the  door  narrowly  open  from  within  while  she 
peeps  back  at  the  suppliant  in  a  fashion  that  has  grown 
tormentingly  familiar  to  him. 

44 1  shall  soon  know  you,  Miss  Rivers,  only  by  sections 
of  your  face.  The  effect  is  extremely  broken  —  far  from 
good." 

444  Quite  good  enough'  —  for  the  beholder.  Half  an 
eye  ought  to  wither  any  man  who  so  persists  in  begging 
invitations  to  the  workshop  of  an  extremely  busy  person. 
If  he  were  not  of  the  severely  occupied  sex,  and  it  were 
proper  manners,  one  might  suggest  that  he  take  up  some 
useful  industry  himself,  to  keep  him  from  loitering  at 
doors  after  he  has  received  the  broadest  hints  to  go." 

During  these  gibes  the  man  is  intent  only  on  the  sternly 
narrowing  door,  through  whose  straitening  space  he  hastens 
to  cry,  — 

44  But  you  said  I  might  come  in  and  sit  in  the  corner." 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  271 

"  Not  till  Mrs.  Doane  is  ready.  Wait  till  you  hear  her 
coming  up  the  stairs." 

"  Why  need  Mrs.  Doane  come  at  all?"  is  the  daring 
demand. 

' '  To  keep  you  in  order,  —  keep  you  from  giving  those 
sudden  great  jerks  of  your  shoulders  which  you  did  very 
troublesomely  the  last  time." 

UI  was  not  practised  then  as  a  model.  To-day  T  w^l 
stir  no  more  than  the  brazen  Brahma  on  my  mantel 
piece." 

"  No,  no:  you  cannot  be  trusted.  You  will  be  travel 
ling  out  of  your  corner,  without  Mrs.  Doane  to  fence  you 
in.  Besides,  I  want  to  finish  that  group  of  you  two  which 

I  began  the  other  day,  or  to  sketch  a  new  one  —  an  idea 
seizes  me  at  this  moment."     And  with  these  words  the 
last  crack  in  the  door  is  closed,  that  inexorable  bolt  flies 
to,  and  there  is  no  hope  of  admittance  till  Mrs.  Doane 
comes  up-stairs  ;  and  the  subjugated  man  walks  meekly 
into  the  studio  in  the  matron's  train. 

But  if  an  American  lover  must  be  punished  for  falling 
in  love  with  a  young  woman  4 '  seized  of  ideas  ' '  by  being 
forced  to  do  his  wooing,  after  the  fashions  of  Continental 
Europe,  with  third  persons  in  the  room,  there  could  not 
have  been  a  less  offensive  duenna  than  good  Mrs.  Doane. 
She  had  strictly  kept  her  word  of  honor  never  to  steal  a 
look  at  the  secret  picture  :  still  she  had  her  surmises  about 
it,  and  that  not  the  lines  of  Mr.  Leigh's  mere  shoulders 
were  what  Monny  traced  at  these  sittings,  nor  yet  the 

II  groups  ;  "  which  were  merely  various  ludicrous  carica- 
tuies  of  her  two  visitors,  which  she  often  executed  at  a 
few  strokes,  behind   her  easel,   to  cover  her  real  work 
there. 

Thus  to-day,  when  the  minister  and  the  matron  were 
seated  in  their  appointed  corner,  the  artist  set  up  inside 


272  A  REVEREND    [DOL. 

her  large  canvas  a  bit  of  sketching- board  with  this  an 
nouncement  :  — 

u  This  afternoon,  Mr.  Leigh,  I  will  make  a  small  sketch 
of  you  as  a  domineering  Churchman  persecuting  my  an 
cestors  in  the  days  of  the  bad  Stuarts.  Mrs.  Doane  will 
represent  my  people.  She  will  be  the  faithful  Puritan 
matron,  whose  meeting-house  you  shut  up,  and  call  it  by 
Biich  reviling  names  as  '  conventicle  ; '  whose  cows  and 
things  you  take  away  to  pay  your  unjust  tithes  ;  whom 
you  impose  on  without  end,  till  she  is  driven  far  over  the 
wide,  cold  ocean,  to  take  refuge  on  Cape  Cod." 

"  Or  you  might  make  a  small  sketch  of  me,"  suggests 
Mr.  Leigh,  "  as  a  faithful  Churchman  in  the  days  of  that 
good  Long  Parliament.  Driven  out  of  my  pulpit  and  my 
little  country  parish  for  no  crime  but  using  the  Prayer- 
Book,  hunted  over  the  moors  by  the  Roundheads,  till 
Mrs.  Doane,  the  gentle  Puritan  matron,  shelters  me  in 
her  house,  lest  an  honest,  if  misguided,  fellow- creature 
perish  of  cold  and  hunger." 

"I  should  certainly  have  taken  you  in,  sir,"  said  the 
Orthodox  widow,  looking  reverently  up  at  the  Episcopal 
clerg}Tman. 

"  II — m,  h — m  !  don't  give  up  to  him  so,  aunt  Persy  !  " 
cried  the  younger  champion.  "  Now,  do  you  not  acknowl 
edge,  Mr.  Leigh,  that  your  side  behaved  much,  much 
the  worse?  Were  not  the  Puritans  a  great  deal  nearer 
the  right,  on  the  whole?  " 

"It  is,  it  mayhap,"  replied  Mr.  Leigh  in  the  quietly 
imposing  recitative  of  a  man  quoting  out  of  a  book,  "  it 
is  not  altogether  to  the  discredit  of  the  kindly  race  of  -  — 
young  ladies,  that  they  are  apt  to  take  an  interest  warm, 
yea,  partial,  in  the  deeds  and  sentiments  of  their  fore 
fathers.  But  truly  the  calm  historian  cannot  gratify  such 
predilections.  He  must  needs  declare,  that,  although 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  273 

the  Puritans  were  honorably  tenacious  of  their  opinions 
under  persecution,  still  their  own  tempers  were  sullen, 
fierce,  and  rude,  their  opinions  absurd  and  extravagant, 
and  their  whole  course  of  conduct  that  of  persons  whom 
hellebore  would  better  have  suited  than  prosecutions  unto 
death  for  high  treason.*' 

"You  skip,  you  skip,  calm  historian!"  challenges 
Hlonny,  popping  out  her  bright  face  into  full  view  at  one 
side  of  her  easel,  and  dropping  a  brush  in  her  gleeful 
excitement  at  making  a  point  against  St.  Ancient's  rector. 
"You  are  not  '  cautelous  '  in  quoting  your  authorities. 
The  first,  the  very  first  paragraph  in  your  extract  reads 
so  :  '  The  prelatist,  the  perjured  prelatixt,  desires  that  his 
predecessors  should  be  considered  moderate  in  their  power, 
and  just  iii  their  execution  of  its  privileges ;  when  truly 
the  unimpassioned  peruser  of  the  annals  of  those  times 
shall  deem  them  sanguinary,  violent,  and  tyrannical.'  " 

"Breathes  there  a  young  lady  with  soul  so  dead," 
rejoined  Mr.  Leigh,  endeavoring  to  save  himself  by  as 
suming  his  most  imperturbable  air,  "so  devoid  of  all  the 
pleasing  enthusiasms  of  her  sex,  that  she  stops  to  read  the 
prefaces  of  novels,  of  the  'Heart  of  Mid  Lothian,'  and 
remembers  every  line  on  the  cold  page,  like  an  attorney  ?  " 

"To  confound  the  special  pleaders  who  do  not  quote 
fair,  who  garble  Sir  Walter  Scott  to  their  own  uses,  — 
and  he  a  Tory  to  begin  with  !  ' ' 

"Well,  well,  too  sharp  young  Mayflower!  On  the 
whole,  we  will  let  his  last  words  stand  ungnrMed.  I 
believe  the  conclusion  of  that  whole  matter  is  in  these 
^o-ds:  '  Nathless,  while  such,  and  so  preposterous,  were 
the  opinions  on  either  side,  there  were,  it  cannot  be  doubt 
ed,  men  of  virtue  and  worth  on  both  to  entitle  either 
paity  to  claim  merit  for  its  martyrs.'" 

"That  is  the  best  sentiment  of  all,  that  has  the  right 


274  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

sound/'  said  Mrs.  Doane,  picking  up  her  ball  of  yarn, 
and  straying  out  to  the  hall- window  to  cosset  her  plants 
there  a  little.  Then  the  blessed  woman  strayed  sol'tly  on 
down  stairs,  leaving  the  American  lover  to  snatch  for  a 
moment  his  national  privilege  of  being  alone  with  the 
adored  one.  He  had  to  be  very  wary,  however,  about 
changing  his  tone  too  markedly,  lest  this  incalculable 
maid  would  sound  an  alarm  for  the  duenna.  So,  with 
some  continuation  of  the  teasing  tone  in  which  the  late 
conversation  had  gone  on,  he  said,  taking  up  a  book 
from  a  stand  near  by,  inscribed  with  the  name  "  Monny 
Kivers,"  — 

4 'Why  does  a  being  with  such  a  beautiful  name  as 
Anemone,  not  write  out  her  name  properly  as  it  is?  " 

"To  enrage  Lord  Dufferin  when  he  sees  me  in  my 
boarding-school  catalogue.  Only  I  never  have  spelled 
*  Monny '  with  an  lie,*  which,  of  course,  will  make  the 
governor-general  of  Canada  feel  badly.  He  is  the  last 
man,  I  believe,  who  has  spent  all  his  scorn  on  the  names 
of  American  ladies.  Is  it  not  a  most  presumptuous  piece 
of  British  interference  —  firing  at  us  way  over  the  bor 
der?  Girls,"  she  went  on,  "  are  obliged  to  make  mince 
meat  of  their  names,  because  they  have  such  dreadful 
names  given  them  in  their  helpless  infancy :  so,  when 
they  grow  up,  they  have  to  trim  them  down  as  best  they 
can.  The  merriest  and  most  unpretending  girl  I  knew 
at  school  was  christened  by  such  a  name  as  Melpomene. 
What  could  she  do  but  write  herself  'Mellie,'  or  'Fom- 
inie'  ?  "  demanded  the  maiden,  who,  as  for  her  own  name 
of  Anemone,  really  thought  it  so  romantically  affected 
a  name,  it  had  required  all  her  sentiment  for  her  dead 
mother  ever  to  reconcile  her  to  it. 

"•  But  Anemone,  the  wind-flower  —  to  call  that  a  dread 
ful  name!"  exclaimed  the  lover,  who,  for  his  part,  SID- 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  275 

cerely  thought  that  no  other  name  on  earth  could  have 
BO  exquisitely  suited  this  ever-varying  maiden. 

But  the  perverse  wind-blossom  replied,  "  How  would 
a  man  like  to  be  named  after  all  the  flowers  of  the  field, 
without  waiting  to  see  what  kind  of  a  flower  ne  would 
grow  up  into  ? ' ' 

u  That  grace  has  not  been  given  him.  He  is  not  of 
the  sex  that  grows  up  into  flowers." 

41  Certainly.  He  could  be  named  Chamomile,"  laughed 
Monuy,  "  Juniper,  Quince,  Caly  can  thus,  Pitch-Pine, — 
all  these  names  in  the  language  of  flowers  mean  mascu 
line  attributes  (what  are  supposed  to  be  masculine) ,  — 
fortitu  le,  benevolence,  time,  and  philosophy,  4I  will  pro 
tect  thte.'  Those  are  the  meanings." 

44  Which  of  them  means,  4I  will  protect  thee  '  ?"  quick 
ly  interposed  the  lover. 

44  Juniper!  As  absurd  a  one  as  any,"  cried  Monny. 
44  The  Reverend  Juniper  Leigh  !  Wouldn't  he  be  thankful 
to  write  himself  'Junie,'  or  'Nip'?  Nip  would  be  the 
most  mannish,  I  suppose,  and  extremely  dignified  for  a 
minister." 

A  girl  who  is  bent  only  on  warding  off  all  possibility 
of  serious  talk,  and  a  man  who  is  reconciled  to  any  talk 
by  the  one  blissful  fact  that  the  darling  is  there,  and  the 
d'n-nna  is  not, — a  pair  so  circumstanced  will  strikingly 
illustrate  what  puerilities  conversation  can  be  reduced  to 
between  two  not  wholly  soft-brained  mortals,  and  still  go 
on  very  interestingly  to  the  twain. 

Thus  the  next  remark  which  the  famous  Kenyou  Leigh 
oTered  was  -  to  inquire  most  solicitously,  44  What  does 
•Anemone'  mean  in  the  language  of  flowers?" 

44  What  do  men  study  in  all  their  colleges,  that  they 
come  out  of  them  so  ignorant  of  the  barest  rudiments  of 
knowledge?  In  my  school  botany  there  was  a  catalogue, 


276  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

pages  long,  giving  all  the  meanings  of  flowers  in  the 
most  alphabetical  order." 

"  No  such  delightful  text-books  are  studied  in  men's 
colleges,  —  nothing  half  so  interesting.  This  language 
of  flowers  is  a  quite  unknown  tongue  to  me.  Tell  me, 
what  does  '  Anemone  '  mean  in  it  ?  ' ' 

4 'Do  you  dislike  '  Mouny '  very  much?"  asked  the 
maid,  by  way  of  answer ;  for  she  would  have  been  con 
tent  now  to  have  been  christened  "  Buttercup,"  or  "  Hol 
lyhock,"  if  those  names  had  pleased  Mr.  Leigh's  fancy. 

"How  could  I  dislike  '  Monny '  ?  "  he  replied,  with 
such  an  emphasis  the  artist's  head  instantly  disappeared 
behind  her  canvas,  and  she  was  severely  absorbed  in  her 
work  again. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  called  'Ana,'  for  a  little  name?" 
ventured  the  man  ;  for,  although  the  maiden's  little  name 
of  '  Monny  '  was  dear  to  him,  he  had  a  lover's  fancy  that 
a  little  name  all  to  himself  would  be  still  dearer. 

' '  Never, ' '  replied  the  busy  artist.  ' '  I  have  always 
been  called  'Monny,'  for  short." 

"  See  how  rich  your  name  is  in  adaptations  !  Then  the 
anemone  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  poetic  of  all  flowers. 
The  old  Greeks  named  it  when  they  saw  it  swaying  in  the 
soft  Thessalian  airs.  It  keeps  its  lovely  name  under 
the  waters, — the  sea-anemone,  you  know,  most  beautiful 
of  all  the  ocean  forms,  a  plant  just  breaking  into  breath 
ing  life  "— 

"Oh!  what  they  call  a  polyp!"  interrupted  Monny 
with  a  musical  shriek.  ' '  A  thing  all  a  horrid  mouth ,  and 
claws  set  round  to  feed  it.  I've  seen  him  in  the  a  jua- 
rium.  Polyp  Rivers  !  The  worst,  worst  name  that  was 
ever  done  to  me  yet.  O — h!"  This  prolonged  outcry 
in  which  Monny 's  nonsense  suddenly  broke  off  was  caused 
by  a  glimpse  of  Mr.  Leigh's  tall  head  as  he  slyly  rose 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  277 

up  to  make  a  raid  out  of  his  corner.  But  the  swift  girl 
was  too  quick  for  him.  Snatching  her  canvas  fiorn  her 
easel,  and  successfully  keeping  its  painted  side  from 
sight,  she  flashed,  with  her  big  but  not  very  heavy 
bunion,  through  a  door  behind  her,  which  opened  into 
her  bedroom,  whither  the  pursuer  could  not  follow 

There  was  a  ringing  laugh  of  victory  on  one  side  the 
closed  door,  and  on  the  other  a  man  to  whom  nothing 
was  left  but  to  go  back  to  his  own  rooms,  and  —  search 
there  for  some  book  which  would  tell  him  what  u  anem 
one  "  meant  in  the  language  of  flowers.  He  actually  found 
such  a  work  there,  among  the  possessions  of  Mrs.  Doane, 
lover  of  flowers,  —  a  certain  volume  called  "Flora's 
Casket,"  which  stood,  with  other  faded  little  gilt-edged 
volumes  of  the  ornamental  sort,  on  a  small  hanging  piece 
of  furniture,  made  of  pasteboard  and  varnished  pine- 
cones,  which  graced  his  study-walls.  This  work  verily 
expounded,  with  appropriate  tags  of  poetical  quotation, 
u  the  lan^ua^e  of  flowers;"  and  with  a  little  search  in 

O          & 

this  new  dictionary,  "anemone"  was  found.  "Anem 
one  "  signified  anticipation.  Her  lover  certainly  had  not 
much  else  to  sustain  himself  on  at  present. 

But  whatever  capers  the  evasive  maiden  practised  all 
this  week,  her  friskiness  sobered  into  the  most  absorbing 
earnestness  as  soon  as  she  was  alone  in  her  loeked-up 
studio.  She  painted  by  the  early  morning  light,  and  some 
times  far  into  the  night,  even  ;  mixing  her  colors  before 
dark,  and  finding  something  that  she  could  do  on  her 
canvas,  even  by  the  yellow  light  of  kerosene  lamps. 

And,  by  Saturday  night  of  this  week,  the  picture  of  the 
Knight-Templar  stood  completed,  —  a  great  picture,  who 
ever  had  painted  it,  and  which,  as  the  work  of  an  artist 
(man  or  woman)  but  twenty-one  years  old,  was  a  creation 
which  would  be  called  miraculous.  It  is  a  miraculously 


278  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

rare  thing,  indeed,  to  happen  to  any  woman's  work,  that 
the  supreme  personal  passion  of  her  heart  can  absolutely 
rush  in  one  current  with  the  creative  effort  of  her  mind. 
This  boon,  with  all  its  hidings  of  power,  was  Mommy's. 
She  knew  that  her  lover  prized  her  gifts  as  she  prized  his  ; 
and  to  show  him  those  gifts  at  their  best,  and  in  a  T\  ork 
which  should  portray  his  very  image  as  it  stood  glorified 
in  her  young  vision  —  this  was  a  work  into  which  she 
could  verily  throw  her  whole  undivided  self.  Young  aa 
she  was,  she  had  attained  already  —  through  years  of  that 
long  travail  of  effort  wherewith  these  gifts  have  birth, 
and  through  the  priceless  discipline  of  some  true  training 
—  to  a  high  degree  of  the  artist's  mere  skill  and  knowl 
edge  ;  and  now,  strong  and  sure  as  the  Atlantic  tides 
sweeping  up  the  shore,  came  the  inspiration. 

Oh  !  —  wayworn  and  weary  as  most  gifted  women  must 
come  to  their  achievement,  though  its  purpose  thrilled 
their  earliest  opening  life  —  blessed  indeed  above  women 
was  this  maiden,  toiling  over  her  masterpiece  far  into  the 
night,  since  she  was  yet  in  those  first  young  years  when 
the  bright  eyes  could  outwatch  the  stars,  and  the  morrow 
show  only  some  sweet  languor  of  their  lids,  some  soft 
paleness,  making  only  tenderer  the  fab:  cheek :  hers  was 
the  palma  sine  pulvere. 


A  BEVEKEND   IDOL.  279 


CHAPTER 


rpHE  next  Sunday  also  was  an  eventful  day  to  Monny  ; 
-L  for  she  was  to  hear  Mr.  Leigh  preach  for  the  first 
time.  He  was  to  be  the  "  supply  "  that  day  in  the  little 
Orthodox  church  of  Lonewater. 

Clara  Macey  had  returned  home  during  the  week  :  so 
Monny  was  released  from  her  organ  duties  ;  and  at  the 
usual  hour,  arrayed  in  a  white  walking-costume,  —  it  was 
one  of  those  intensely  hot  days  which  often  come  back  in 
the  first  weeks  of  September,  like  a  lavish  good-by  visit 
of  the  parting  summer,  —  she  set  out  for  the  village 
church  with  Mrs.  Doane.  A  carryall  had  been  sent  to  the 
house  to  convey  the  preacher  of  the  day  :  but  he  left  this 
vehicle  to  the  sole  use  of  the  ladies,  who  could  thus  carry 
a  third  feminine  passenger  ;  and  as  the  vehicle  went  some 
what  out  of  its  way  to  take  up  this  neighbor,  an  infirm  old 
lady,  the  church,  when  the  carryall  finally  arrived  there, 
was  already  crammed  to  overflowing  with  the  people  who 
had  come  from  miles  around  to  bear  the  man  preach  who 
could  swim  the  Lonewater  breakers  in  a  midnight  gale. 

Now,  seeing  how  crowded  the  church  was,  and  that 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  was  just  coming  towards  it,  quite 
alone,  Monny  bade  the  sexton  take  only  the  old  ladies 
into  those  "best  seats'*  which  he  had  carefully  reserved 
for  Mr.  Leigh's,  present  household,  while  she  waited  for 
the  New-  York  stranger,  in  order  to  transfer  to  the  latter 
any  advantage  of  her  own  about  seats. 

This  little  Impulse  of   courtesy  was   the   only  feeling 


280  A  EEVEEEND   IDOL. 

stirred  in  Monny  this  morning  at  sight  of  the  lady  who 
had  so  exercised  her  mind  the  Sunday  before.  She  had 
actually  made  her  toilet  to-day  (she  wore  Mr.  Leigh's  gift 
of  the  white-lawn  gypsy)  with  the  single  aim  of  pleasing 
one  pair  of  masculine  eyes,  uncrossed  by  a  thought  of 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  or  of  what  claims  the  dowdy  aristo 
cratic  style  might  have  on  her  future  adopting,  looked  at 
in  the  stern  light  of  duty.  Actually,  as  she  stood  waiting 
now  in  the  church-door,  she  had  completely  forgotten 
what  her  own  looks  were,  or  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's,  seeing 
nothing,  with  that  far-off  light  in  her  young  eyes,  but  the 
minister  whose  public  speech  she  was  to  hear  to-day  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life.  Yes,  with  the  ever-gathering 
exaltation  of  feeling  in  which  she  had  painted  her  lover's 
picture  during  the  past  week,  the  expectant  mood  that 
thrilled  her  now,  it  was  as  if  she  had  gone  away  with  him 
into  some  world  apart,  —  just  they  two  had  entered  in  to 
that  place  of  separateness,  and  the  door  was  shut.  Shut 
even  to  the  related  solicitudes  that  had  moved  her  the 
last  Sunday  before  the  lady  parishioner  of  St.  Ancient's  ; 
and,  modestly  saluting  that  lad}7  now,  the  two  passed  into 
the  church  together,  attracting  every  eye. 

Very  rarely,  in  truth,  into  one  little  meeting-house,  or 
into  the  largest  one,  come  a  pair  of  such  striking  feminine 
figures  as  were  these  two  beautiful  women.  Each  of  them 
singularly  set  off  the  other ;  and  both  of  them,  in  different 
ways,  looked  immortal.  The  black-robed  divinity  looked 
neither  old  nor  young ;  yet  no  man  would  ever  have  de 
scribed  her  as  of  uncertain  age,  or,  in  that  rather  dubious 
phrase  of  compliment,  as  a  well-preserved  woman.  No  : 
dateless  of  days,  her  beauty  shone  in  its  pale,  starry 
splendor,  seeming  by  its  own  nature  changeless  ;  so  perfect 
it  must  have  been  created  just  as  it  was,  subject  neither  to 
growth  nor  to  decay.  The  white-robed  girl,  on  the  other 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  281 

hand,  suggested  such  plenitude  of  life,  it  seemed  as  if 
nothing  could  ever  drain  the  bounteous  tides  which  fed 
those  young  pulses,  so  rounding  every  contour,  making 
the  mere  irmdation  of  tints,  where  her  fair  veined  temples 
melted  into  the  rose  of  her  cheek,  and  that  again  into  the 
whiteness  of  her  round  throat,  like  a  symphony  of  light : 
for  the  moment,  one  forgot  to  ask  what  of  all  this  would 
be  left  when  the  sallowing  years  should  smite  her ;  for 
the  moment  hers,  too,  seemed  a  beauty  that  could  not  De 
touched  of  time. 

The  minister,  as  he  sat  in  the  pulpit  waiting  for  the  last 
strokes  of  the  bell  to  die  away,  turned  a  silent  glance  on 
the  pair  who  drew  so  many  glances  from  the  congregation 
as  they  came  up  the  aisle.  Psychologists  might  say  that 
some  occult  warning,  in  this  moment,  touched  the  soul  of 
the  lover,  of  danger  to  the  maiden  in  the  neighborhood 
of  that  widow ;  for  he  experienced  some  slight  sensation 
like  relief  in  seeing  them  finally  seated,  not  together,  but 
apart.  But  this  passing  feeling  could  probably  be  ac 
counted  for  in  a  less  fanciful  way.  Thus :  the  vivid 
picture  which  the  beautiful  twain  had  made  as  they 
moved  together,  led  the  eye  almost  automatically  to  com 
pare  them ;  and  there  were  subtle  refinements  of  feeling 
in  Kenyon  Leigh  which  shrank  from  any  comparing  of 
those  two  women.  He  had  no  more  sense  of  having 
chosen  one  of  them  than  of  having  left  the  other;  for 
he  did  not  assume  that  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  ever  been 
his  to  leave,  and  his  sentiment  for  Monny  was  too  utterly 
supreme  for  him  to  think  of  her  as  a  choice.  Save  for 
one  intense  moment  of  his  life,  he  had  never  compared 
her  with  anybody ;  but  that  moment's  comparison  had 
been  made  with  this  very  woman  :  and  that  precisely  she, 
who  so  recently  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  globe, 
should  be  walking  now  into  this  little  church  of  the  wilder- 


282  A   KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

ness,  in  such  striking  juxtaposition  to  Monny,  was  a 
coincidence  which  impressed  him  for  an  instant  in  some 
dimly  unwelcome  way. 

It  was  all  a  very  dim,  feeling,  however,  —  so  dim  that 
he  may  have  recognized  the  pleasurable  alternation  that 
he  experienced  on  seeing  Monny  parted  from  that  sug 
gestive  companion  merely  as  pleasure  at  seeing  the  darling 
of  his  heart,  as  he  had  always  seen  her,  surrounded  by 
untutored  people,  so  distinct  among  them,  yet  so  beloved. 
For  Monny,  giving  her  own  reserved  pew-seat,  of  course, 
to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  refused  all  other  places,  to  blot 
herself,  as  the  French  say,  in  a  little  corner  of  one  of  the 
crowded  aisle-settees,  beside  her  ancient  mariner,  Isry- 
Chris,  who  proudly  created  this  room  for  her. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  as  well  as  Mr.  Leigh,  was  gratified 
to  have  Mouny  sit  just  where  she  did,  because,  in  her  side 
ways  position  in  the  aisle,  the  girl  was  particularly  well 
placed  for  the  widow  to  study  her  face  at  leisure.  All 
that  impression  of  surpassing  beauty  that  she  makes  at 
first  sight,  mentally  pronounced  the  latter,  as  she  made 
this  survey,  is  in  the  extreme  variableness  of  her  face, 
and  the  brilliancy  of  her  eyes  and  complexion,  set  off  by 
her  curls,  and  that  ingenue  toilet  which  she  understands 
so  well.  The  very  briefest  iv'ud  of  beauty  :  these  mobile, 
vivacious  faces  are  always  the  soonest  lined :  nobody  will 
turn  round  to  look  at  her  ten  years  hence,  thought  the 
woman,  whose  face  of  imperial  beauty  people  had  turned 
round  to  look  at  during  far  more  than  one  decade. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  fancied  that  those  stoned  heroines 
whose  long  and  late  power  over  men  she  was  so  emulous 
of,  had  something  like  her  own  imperishable  type  of  face. 
But  probably  gifts  far  rarer  and  more  enduring  than  any 
mere  physical  charm  belonged  to  those  sirens  who  so 
miraculously  triumphed  over  the  years.  There  was,  mi« 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  283 

doubtedly,  far  fresher  beauty  at  Egypt's  court  than  in 
the  face  of  Cleopatra,  "wrinkled  deep  in  time."  The 
quality  that  "age  could  not  wither"  was  something 
deeper  than  her  skin.  No :  even  the  perverted  lives  of 
Circean  women  would  probably  show  another  secret  for 
their  vitality  than  that  deathly  wisdom  which  prescribes 
as  the  best  life-preserving  recipe  "a  hard  heart  and  a 
good  digestion  "  (to  the  sex  supposed  to  depend  most  on 
its  digestion),  and  which  warns  women,  as  in  the  words 
of  Landor,  that  "expression  in  the  feminine  face,"  viz., 
the  outward  sign  of  an  inward  sensibility,  "  is  a  beauty  for 
which  women  must  pay  dearly  and  pay  soon." 

To  be  sure,  there  is  a  sense  in  which  all  energy  of  spirit 
makes  its  mark  on  the  flesh,  and  that  early.  Thus,  even 
to-day,  when  the  light  and  bloom  which  this  artist-girl 
seemed  to  radiate  as  she  entered  the  church,  a  little  died 
from  her  face,  a  close  observer  would  have  noted  in  it 
signs  of  thought  and  endeavor  which  contradicted  all  that 
impression  of  extreme  Juvenility,  as  of  a  girl  scarcely 
more  than  half  through  her  teens,  which  her  dimpled  fair 
ness  gave  at  first  sight. 

Well,  Monny  might  smile  at  all  the  threatenings  of 
time ;  since,  from  the  first,  she  had  drawn  her  lover  by 
one  of  those  attractions  to  which  the  charms  of  a  face 
are  but  the  merest  lending.  But  the  far  deadlier  destroyer 
than  time,  which  the  jealous  woman  who  watched  her 
was  setting  this  moment  on  her  track  —  what  could  the 
unconscious  victim  do  against  that  foe?  Yes,  the  plotter- 
watched  the  victim  while  the  opening  services  now  began, 
led  by  an  Orthodox  minister  who  had  come  in  among  the 
hearers,  and  been  invited  into  the  pulpit,  while  the  con 
gregation  rose  up  and  sat  down  in  the  Orthodox  places : 
all  the  wnile  she  studied  that  young  creature  in  the  aisle. 
Every  outward  sign  that  might  aid  her  in  guessing  the 


284  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

girl's  most  personal  traits  and  temperament,  the  precise 
shade  of  her  social  position  in  the  city,  —  all  these  things 
it  concerned  the  widow's  wily  purposes  to  know.  She 
noted  that  preposterous  old  fisherman  beside  her,  evi 
dently  her  acquaintance,  from  the  grand  delight  with 
which  he  waited  on  her.  Isry-Chris,  having  a  very  tidy 
old  wife,  got  himself  up  for  church  with  scrupulous  neat 
ness  ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  was  transformed 
by  his  Sunday  clothes,  from  the  hoary  picturesqueness 
which  he  had  in  his  week-day  ones,  into  a  striking  re 
semblance  to  the  symbolic  Uncle  Sam  in  one  of  Nast's 
caricatures.  The  marvellous  hitch  about  his  trousers, 
the  indescribable  fling  of  coat-tails  and  cravat,  was, 
doubtless,  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the  chief  pieces 
of  his  Sunday  suit  had  usually  belonged  to  some  other 
man  before  himself,  and  partly  to  that  indefeasible  jaunti- 
ness  which  a  sailor,  of  whatever  years,  will  impart  to  his 
attire.  But  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  was  precisely  the  sort  of 
fine  lady  to  find  the  old  man,  in  his  grotesque  simplicity, 
an  object  to  shudder  at,  and  to  make  silent  criticisms  on 
Monny,  as  she  first  distributed  her  own  little  hymn-book 
to  the  unprovided  ones  near,  and  then  looked  over  with 
Isry-Chris  in  that  hymn-book,  big  as  a  ledger,  which  he 
had  brought  for  his  old  eyes  ;  her  white  hand  holding 
one  side  of  it,  and  his  horny  brown  paw  grasping  the 
other,  while  she  stood  up  beside  him  in  all  unconscious 
ness,  singing,  with  something  of  the  sweet  voice  of  her 
musical  mother,  in  such  melodies  as  the  congregation 
joined  in. 

Monny  had  always  the  good  old  Roman-Catholic  virtue 
of  being  able  to  say  her  prayers  beside  a  beggar :  but  she 
would  really  not  have  known  to-day  whether  prince  or 
beggar  were  beside  her ;  all  her  soul  had  migrated  into 
the  pulpit  with  the  man  who  was  presently  to  stand  up 
there  in  an  office  in  which  he  was  yet  unknown  to  her. 


A  KI;VI;I:I:ND  IDOL.  285 

Now,  to  confess  all  the  truth,  ever  since  Monny's  first 
dawn  of  sentiment  for  Mr.  Leigh,  she  had  a  little  dreaded 
to  hear  him  preach.  At  first  this  had  been  because  the 
thought  of  him  as  a  minister  a  little  disturbed  his  perfect 
ideal  as  a  lover:  she  was  so  far  from  the  type  of  young 
woman  who  finds  a  clergyman  as  such  a  romantic  charac 
ter.  And  when  the  power  of  this  disturbance  was  past, 
when  the  man  became  so  supreme  to  her  that  his  vocation 
no  longer  mattered  to  herself,  then  a  new  and  far  deeper 
solicitude  touched  her,  as  to  how  it  might  matter  to  him. 

That  power  of  sympathetic  insight  which  distinguishes 
all  fine  feminine  natures,  and  which  so  often  enables  a 
woman  to  outrun  her  knowledge  in  true  appreciation  of 
whatever  concerns  the  man  she  loves,  —  this  insight  in 
such  a  girl  as  Monny  was  like  a  divination.  Thus  dis 
cerning,  as  she  did,  what  a  masculine  grasp  of  realities 
characterized  Kenyon  Leigh,  she  could  not  imagine  him 
as  dogmatizing  on  the  things  that  nobody  knows  ;  and  to 
reiterate  the  things  that  everybody  knows  —  he  was  too 
original  for  that.  But  again :  least,  least  of  ah1,  could 
she  imagine  him  as  standing  up  in  a  pulpit  to  turn  over 
'k  all  the  riddle  of  the  painful  earth  "  as  a  mere  problem 
to  exercise  and  entertain  the  mind  with,  however  bril 
liantly. 

Yet  what  could  any  preacher  do,  save  some  of  these 
things?  was  the  query  that  haunted  even  this  young 
daughter  of  the  Puritans,  till  Kenyon  Leigh  rose  up,  and 
"  his  full  Sowing  river  of  speech  came  down  upon  the 
heart."  That  it  should  overcome  this  young  heart  like 
a  current  'setting  from  some  new  immorta^  seas  was  not 
very  strange,  of  course.  But  there  was  no  class  of  minds 
on  which  this  preacher  did  not  make  somewhat  the  same 
impression.  This,  by  the  way,  was  a  never-ending  mar- 
1*3!  to  some  critics,  who  would  have  said  that  he  would 


286  A   EEVEEEND   IDOL. 

only  be  appreciated  by  the  very  cultured,  superior  few, 
never  by  the  many ;  and  all  sorts  of  extraneous  reasons 
were  sought,  to  account  for  his  mysterious  popularity 
with  the  multitude.  The  secret  probably  needed  no  such 
ingenious  searching-out.  It  might  not  follow  that  all  the 
crude  ears  that  were  always  found  in  good  proportion  in 
that  varied  throng  at  St.  Ancient's  had  been  suddenly 
opened  to  perceive  the  superior  force  and  beauty  of  this 
preacher's  noble  simplicity  of  speech,  where  the  vividness 
was  all  in  the  ideas,  —  to  perceive  the  superiority  of  this 
style,  as  a  mere  style,  over  that  of  the  orators  whose 
eloquence  was  rather  in  their  sounding  flights  of  words, 
and  the  liveliness  of  their  arms  and  legs.  Quite  possibly, 
some  of  this  class  of  eager  listeners  to  Kenyon  Leigh  still 
thought,  that,  as  to  orators,  those  other  speakers  were  the 
geniuses  ;  while  this  was  only  a  plain,  blunt  man,  who 
spoke  right  on,  in  a  fashion  that  mysteriously  restored 
some  lost  purpose  and  enthusiasm  and  assurance  to  life, 
—  a  re-assurance  which  a  great  many  different  kinds  of 
people  were  in  want  of ;  and  this  was  what  brought  the 
crowd. 

Seriously  this  might  be  so.  The  man  did  most  singu 
larly  and  peculiarly  meet  an  especial  and  widely-diffused 
despair  of  our  time  ;  and  whoever  speaks  to  a  general 
want  will  draw  the  general  humanity  to  hear  him,  what 
ever  his  mere  phrases  be.  The  gift  of  Kenyon  Leigh 
was,  that  he  laid  hold  of  the  spiritual  forces  of  life  as 
other  great  leaders  of  thought  to-day  lay  hold  of  its 
physical  forces.  They  were  just  as  actual  to  him.  It 
was  precisely  that  masculine  grasp  of  realities  brought 
to  bear  on  things  which  are  slipping  out  of  men's  belief 
as  realities  —  just  this  quality  in  him,  which  h  id  so 
troubled  young  Monny  as  to  how  it  would  find  its  exer 
cise  in  the  pulpit  —  which  made  his  peculiar  might  there 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  287 

Ho  was  like  an  incarnate  deliverer  from  tbe  spirit  of 
fatalism,  —  tbe  very  St.  Michael  to  that  dragon  whose 
constricting  folds  so  tend  to  press  the  life  to-day  from  out 
the  moral  will,  in  the  rudest  as  in  the  most  refined  breast. 
Luther  throwing  his  inkstand  at  the  Devil  could  as  easily 
have  been  persuaded  that  evil  and  good  tire  twin -brethren, 
arid  both  irresponsible  puppets  worked  by  the  wires  of 
circumstance,  as  Kcnyon  Leigh,  albeit  he  did  not  IIVG  in 
an  age  to  make  precisely  that  kind  of  projectile  of  lu.s 
iijkstand.  Of  course,  behind  the  unique  mental  organiza 
tion  that  was  at  once  so  broad  and  so  positive,  there  was 
the  great  illuminating  light  of  a  personal  character  which 
had  its  own  way  of  shining. 

"  He  don't  do  the  scare,  nor  a  bit  of  the  soft  sawder ; 
he's  got  no  delivery  and  no  doctrines  (nothing  newei 
than  the  old  Bible  ones,  that  is)  ;  ain't  so  very  deadly 
handsome  ;  grand  kind  of  a  figure  —  but  no  more  science 
of  showing  it  off  than  a  sheep.  No,  boys :  I  tell  you 
what  positively  makes  the  rush  after  that  new  rector  at 
St.  Ancient's  is,  that  he's  a  man  himself  of  a  kind  of 
forty-thousand  power  to  keep  the  strait  road  in  a  crooked 
wale  ;  and  by  the  Lord  !  if,  in  about  five  minutes  of  him, 
you  don't  begin  to  wish  you  was  making  more  tracks  that 
way  yourself!  Yes,  sir:  when  I  set  out  from  the  fair 
city  of  Destruction,  there's  a  man  I  shall  tie  up  to  for  the 
journey. " 

Thus  the  Rev.  Kenyon  Leigh  was  described,  when  he 
first  made  his  advent  in  New  York,  by  one  of  those  youth 
ful  professors  of  gospel  criticism  who  report  the  sermons 
for  the  Monday-morning  dailies,  as  he  sharpened  his  pen 
cil  in  it'nd-v'zvous  with  his  confreres.  And  it  may  be  that 
the  more  elegant  critics  who  had  puzzled  over  the  riddle 
of  Kenyon  Leigh's  popularity  did  not  so  nearly  solve  it. 

Well,  it   is   not  necessary  to  make  any  extracts  from 


288  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

the  sermon,  or  even  to  mention  the  text  that  was  preached 
from  this  morning  in  the  little  seaside  church,  crowded 
with  sailors,  down  to  the  lowest  deck-hands  from  vessels 
lying  in  Sunday  harbor  at  the  next  port,  whose  crews  had 
walked  over  to  Lonewater,  getting  news  that  the  hero  of 
the  shipwreck  was  to  preach  there.  Kenyon  Leigh  never 
preached  down  to  any  audience,  and  he  did  not  preach 
down  to  this  one ;  but  perhaps  that  strangely  sensitive 
young  hearer  whom  he  had  in  his  congregation  to-day 
could  have  nowhere  heard  him  where  his  commission 
would  have  been  made  so  clear  to  her. 

Certainly  there  were  men  in  the  world  who  considered 
Kenyon  Leigh  as  a  great  wasted  power,  as  a  man  lavish 
ing  in  an  outworn  profession  a  genius  which  in  any  other 
field  than  the  pulpit  would  have  made  him  a  deathless 
name.  But  to-day,  the  girl,  who,  only  a  girl,  was  such 
a  critic  as  in  all  his  audiences  the  famed  preacher  had 
never  had  before,  for  none  could  so  measure  his  greatness 
as  did  she,  —  this  young  hearer,  listening  through  the 
deepening  hush  which  always  fell  on  Kenyon  Leigh's 
audiences,  and  which  held  as  if  spell-bound  this  motley 
throng,  was  assured,  with  eternal  assurance  at  last,  that 
the  man  was  in  his  true  work,  and  that  he  did  it  with 'the 
rejoicing  strength  in  which  the  true  work  is  done.  But 
then,  he  had  got  his  new  start. 

And  the  woman  who  for  years  had  heard  this  preacher, 
and  yet  could  sit  there  to-day  weaving  her  treacherous 
designs  ?  Yea  ;  and  the  most  famous  traitor  in  all  history 
had  sat  under  the  preaching  of  the  Master,  plotting  his 
treason  while  the  divine  sermon  fell. 

Oh,  solemn  exordium  which  must  limit  all  exhortatk  n 
that  ever  was  or  shall  be  !  —  "He  that  hath  ears  to  hear, 
let  him  hear." 


A.  BEVEliEND  IDOL.  289 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

MONNY  went  directly  out  when  the  congregation  was 
dismissed  :  her  seat  in  the  aisle  enabling  her  to  slip 
quietly  away  from  exchanging  any  of  those  greetings  with 
the  villagers  which  were  usually  a  pleasure  to  her.  But 
to-day  her  young  heart  swelled  with  emotions  which  made 
her  long  to  escape  from  every-day  speech.  In  the  entry, 
however,  she  was  met  by  the  widow  Mace}T,  Clara's  moth 
er,  who  had  hastened  to  speak  to  the  young  lady,  that  she 
might  invite  her  to  go  to  dinner  at  her  little  cottage,  not 
far  from  the  church. 

Mormy  knew  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  to  preach  at  the  next 
town  in  the  afternoon ;  that  there  would  be  an  early 
dinner  at  home,  after  which  he  would  immediately  set  off : 
BO,  on  the  whole,  she  went  along  with  the  pleased  widow 
Macey.  The  widow's  musical  daughter,  Clara  (not  at  all 
a  genius,  but  with  talent  and  industry  above  the  average), 
was  now  to  go  to  the  city  for  the  winter,  to  continue  her 
musical  studies  there,  through  Monny's  influence ;  the 
latter  having  found  a  family  where  the  girl  could  have 
board  in  return  for  giving  piano-lessons  to  two  children : 
BO  Miss  Macey  had  only  returned  home  for  a  brief  period, 
to  get  her  wardrobe  in  order. 

Monny,  who  was  not  more  generous  than  she  was  con 
siderate  of  the  feelings  of  sensitive  poverty,  was  quite 
adored  at  widow  Macey's  cottage  ;  and  after  dinner  the 
two  young  girls  went  out  again  together,  —  Clara  to  go 
back  to  the  church  to  play  for  the  afternoon  Sunday 


290  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

school,  while  Monny  turned  aside  to  call  at  Skipper  Ben- 
way's  little  house.  There  she  staid  to  fan  the  sufferer, 
who  lay  breathing  his  life  slowly  away,  or  take  the  restless 
small  children  of  the  family  out  of  doors,  under  the  low 
apple-trees,  and  softly  tell  them  stories  there,  to  the  res 
pite  of  their  overtasked  mother. 

Then,  when  the  sun  began  to  decline  somewhat,  she 
walked  dreamfully  home,  hearing,  as  she  had  heard  all 
tli3  afternoon,  that  preacher  of  the  morning,  —  home  to 
the  old  house,  so  still  in  the  sabbath  stillness,  and  up  to 
her  studio,  to  shut  herself  in  there  alone,  and  kneel  long 
before  her  picture  of  the  Knight-Templar,  which  she  had 
called  completed  the  night  before,  but  which  now  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  must  paint  all  over  again.  The 
warm,  wide  shining  of  the  sea,  the  mighty  sweep  of  the 
Cape-Cod  skies  beneath  which  she  had  walked  home,  — 
she  longed  to  bring  those  breadths  into  her  little  room 
to  paint  that  picture  by ;  such  largeness,  it  seemed  to 
her,  should  be  in  the  life  that  looked  from  it.  Well, 
the  sun  went  down  in  the  great  horizon  without,  and  the 
little  room  grew  too  dark  to  see  the  picture  in,  and  tea 
was  over,  before  the  minister  came,  who  also  had  had  calls 
to  make,  and  did  not  arrive  home  until  quite  in  the  even 
ing. 

The  low  sea-breeze,  that  was  stirring  after  the  hot  day, 
grew  soft  with  a  rich  waft  of  perfume  as  he  opened  Mrs. 
Doane's  little  gate  ;  for  all  over  the  porch,  and  high  up 
on  the  walls  of  the  old  house,  the  sweet  Madeira-vine  wail 
beginning  to  blow,  whose  long- waiting  blossoms  come 
with  all  the  white  tenderness  of  spring,  all  the  depth  of 
the  ripened  summer's  fragrance  —  the  man  in  whose  heart 
love  had  bloomed  even  so,  came  swiftly  up  the  walk  and 
over  the  threshold,  thrilled  with  but  one  thought.  Flash 
ing  in  his  impetuous  search  from  room  to  room,  he  caught 


A   REVEKEND   IDOL.  291 

at  last  the  gleam  of  a  white  dress  flitting  up  the  stairs,  in 
time  to  call  softly  to  it,  through  the  darkness,  "Good 
night,  Ana." 

So  faint  and  shy  that  only  a  lover's  ear  could  have 
heard  it,  was  the  returning  "Good-night"  that  was 
dropped  over  the  balusters :  still  its  accent  told  that  the 
lover's  name  was  not  forbidden. 

Next  day,  Monuy  got  out  her  palette  anew,  and  mixed 
colors  with  great  care,  and  thought  she  must  surely  re 
touch  the  face  of  the  Knight-Templar.  But  she  did 
nothing,  and  finally  concluded  that  she  could  do  nothing 
until  chance  should  procure  her  another  sitting  from  her 
subject. 

Well,  the  subject  walked  into  the  studio,  all  uninvited, 
soon  after  dinner ;  Monny,  who  had  remained  in  a  very 
subdued  state  since  yesterday's  sermon,  having  forgotten 
all  her  tantalizing  tricks  to-day  of  holding  parley  at  the 
door,  and  then  suddenly  locking  it  in  the  suitor's  face. 
In  fact,  slipping  away  from  that  teasing  promenade  which 
she  had  been  wont  to  make  with  her  lover  from  the  dinner- 
table  to  the  doors  of  her  rooms  up-stairs,  she  had  actually 
passed  from  the  entry  into  her  studio,  forgetting  to  lock 
the  door  behind  her.  The  warped  old  door  did  not  remain 
closed  very  securely,  unless  the  bolt  were  slipped ;  and, 
finding  it  thus  a  little  ajar,  the  visitor,  with  the  merest 
ceremony  of  a  knock,  marched  in  upon  the  artist. 

"Where  is  Mrs.  Doane?"  the  latter  summoned  voice 
to  ask. 

"  She  has  gone  away.  I  saw  her  starting  for  the 
village,"  replied  the  man,  endeavoring  to  hide  the  intense 
triumph  with  which  he  made  this  announcement  in  the 
tone  of  one  stating  an  entirely  indifferent  fact.  Then  he 
planted  himself  in  the  corner  where  he  usually  posed  foi 


292  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

his  "shoulders,"  and  assumed  the  immobility  of  a  first- 
class  professional  model. 

The  artist  now  certainly  had  her  opportunity,  but  she 
experienced  a  singular  difficulty  in  improving  it :  she 
could  not  take  a  steady  look  into  the  face  of  the  sitter. 
No :  great  artists  among  men  have  painted  the  women  of 
their  love,  openly  studying  their  faces,  drawing  the  lines 
the  truer,  doubtless,  for  the  inspiration  of  the  beloved 
presence  ;  but  probably  no  woman  could  ever  so  paint  her 
lover's  picture,  save  as  she  adopted  some  such  strategy 
as  Monny's,  who  had  followed  a  wise  instinct  in  keeping  a 
third  person  in  the  room,  thus  enabling  her  to  maintain  all 
her  talk  with  Mr.  Leigh  in  a  vein  of  freakish  nonsense, 
while  she  watched  his  lineaments  unaware. 

To-day  she  could  not  take  up  that  old  tone  again  ;  and, 
after  fussing  a  little  with  her  palette  and  brushes,  she 
said,  to  break  the  too  conscious  silence  which  began  to 
fall,  — 

u  This  is  a  hero  of  the  middle  ages,  you  know." 

"  Yes  :  up  to  date,  that  is  all  I  have  been  able  to  learn 
about  him,"  replied  Mr.  Leigh,  to  whom  that  absoroing 
hero  had  come  to  have  such  an  actually  objective  exist 
ence  as  a  rival  to  himself,  he  was  divided  between  a  con 
stant  longing  to  punch  his  canvas  head  and  a  sentiment 
of  regard  for  Monny's  work :  so  he  only  added  the  weakly 
carping  fling,  "  Saracen,  Jew,  or  Crusader,  —  which  ruffian 
of  the  period  is  he?  " 

"  Oh,  he  is  no  ruffian  !  He  is  the  very  ideal  knight,  — • 
a  Knight-Templar,  one  of  the  undegenerate  days,  I  mean, 
before  they  grew  bad  and  ambitious,"  said  Monny,  re 
membering  Ivanhoe.  "  I  suppose,  of  course,  the  first 
Templars,  those  who  embodied  the  pure  idea,  were  great 
heroes  and  true  men.  I  had  no  books  here  to  study  up 
their  history :  what  were  the  conditions,  the  vows,  of  the 
original  order?  " 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  293 

"Will,"  mechanically   began   Mr.    Leigh,   "the   first 
Templars    were    required    to   be   of    noble    birth,    cell 
bates"  — 

"Oh!"  interrupted  the  dismayed  girl,  as  this  before 
unknown  bit  of  historical  information  was  let  fall,  "oh! 
—  they  were  —  celibates !  O — h ! ' ' 

Among  all  the  intonations  of  which  that  small  word  is 
rapable,  one  of  the  most  pining  was  Monny's  naive, 
dolorous  note,  as  she  discovered  that  she  had  painted  the 
man,  beloved  and  adored,  as  a  hopeless  anchorite.  Her 
arms  dropped  helplessly  by  her  side  as  she  stood  looking 
blankly  from  the  pictured  face  on  her  canvas  to  the 
living  face  of  the  man  who  was  so  identified  with  it.  The 
latter  did  not  know  what  was  the  matter,  only  that  all 
those  maiden  defences  with  which  his  capricious  idol  had 
so  bristled  of  late  were  down  for  a  moment ;  and,  lest 
another  such  moment  should  not  come  again  in  all  the 
rolling  suns,  he  rose  up  swiftly,  and  crossed  the  room  to 
her  side. 

The  girl,  taken  by  surprise,  could  only  make  a  startled 
movement  towards  her  picture ;  but  she  was  too  late  to 
do  any  thing  but  hold  her  palette  across  the  face  of  the 
knight,  as  a  last  concealment. 

"It  looks  —  a  little  bit  —  like  —  you,"  she  pleaded 
faintly,  still  striving  to  hide  the  telltale  features  on  the 
canvas. 

Mr.  Leigh  put  his  hand  on  the  little  hand  that  grasped 
f.he  palette :  he  had  never  given  his  word  of  honor  not  to 
look  at  that  mysterious  picture,  always  meaning  to  seize 
the  first  expedient  moment  to  look  at  it ;  and  now  he  put 
his  powerful  hand  on  the  maiden's,  and  gently  drew  the 
little  oval  board  from  her  hand.  But  it  fell  (he  knew 
not  where,  as  he  saw  the  face  it  had  covered)  as  he 
turned  to  tl  e  face  of  the  girl  who  had  painted  it. 


294  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

44  O  my  darling,  will  you  be  my  wife?  " 
"  O  Mr.  Leigh,  can  I  ever  be  good  enough?  " 
So   beautiful,    so   sacred,    she   stood   there,    with    her 
dropped  eyelids,   and  her  fair  flushing  cheeks,  he  dared 
not  kiss  her  —  only  to  put  an  arm  around  her,  and  dra\r 
her  to  the  high  stool  where  she  had  been  sitting  lefore 
her  easel.     Taking  a  lower  seat  himself  beside  her,  he 
turned  thus  to  survey  again  the  picture  which  he  had  seen 
as  yet  in  bijt  one  swimming  glance. 

He  took  it  in  now,  with  its  marvellous  revelations  of 
power,  with  all  its  infinitely  tender  suggestions  of  the  love 
that  had  wrought  such  very  indifferent  material  as  he 
considered  his  own  personal  lineaments  to  be  into  this 
wondrous  picture  —  he  turned  to  the  young  creature  who 
had  clone  all  this,  and  tried  to  speak,  but  could  find  no 
utterance,  save  to  take  up  Monny's  own  little  words,  and 
say  them  for  himself  with  his  deep  voice  hushed  and 
broken, — 

' '  Can  /  ever  be  good  enough  ?  ' '  The  sweet  face  that 
was  so  near  to  his  turned  on  him  for  answer  such  a  look 
of  adoring  trust,  he  drew  it  softly  nearer,  — 

41  My  darling,  my  darling!"  In  the  rapture  of  first 
kisses  no  other  speech  could  be. 


A  BEVEBKND  IDOL.  295 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"     A    KE  you  busy  to-night,  aunt  Persy,  or  very  tired  ?  " 

-L^-  asked  Mouny,  looking  into  the  familiar  sitting- 
room  soon  after  the  evening  lamp  was  lighted  there.  It 
was  Tuesday  evening ;  and  Mr.  Leigh  had  left  the  Cape 
in  the  morning,  to  fulfil  some  engagements  which  would 
compel  his  absence  for  two  or  three  days. 

44  No,  thank  you,  Miss  Monny,"  replied  the  widow; 
"only  some  extra  steps  to-day,  that's  all,  —  what  with 
getting  Susannah  packed  off  this  morning,  and  teaching 
Jenny  Hiues  how  to  wait  on  the  table,  and  do  such  things 
round  the  house  as  a  young  thing  like  that  is  equal  to." 

44  And  you  have  not  heard  any  worse  news  from  your 
daughter  Emily  about  the  children?"  Monny  continued 
interrogatively. 

u  No,  dear.  I'm  hoping  the  children  won't  be  really 
dangerous.  Only  a  mother,  with  little  ones  ailing  at  all, 
needs  a  help  in  the  house  that  she's  used  to :  so  I  thought 
I  must  send  Susannah  to  Em'ly  in  this  strait,  and  try  to 
get  along  myself  with  Jenny,  since  neither  of  my  boarders 
is  of  the  fussy,  exacting  kind.  Is  there  any  thing  you 
want  me  to  do  for  you,  Miss  Monny?  "  the  matron  sud 
denly  broke  off,  perceiving  something  peculiar  in  the 
girl's  face  and  her  lingering  manner. 

44  No,  no;  but  something  I  want  to  tell  you,"  said 
Mouny  in  a  very  troubled  voice.  44  Something  that's 
been  on  my  mind  all  day  ;  and  it  keeps  growing  bigger 
and  bigger,  —  something  dreadfid ! ' '  she  gasped. 


296  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

Now,  the  widow  had  already  been  told  of  Monny's 
engagement  to  Mr.  Leigh  the  day  before ;  an  announce 
ment  that  she  had  naturally  been  expecting  for  some 
time.  .  So  this  intimation  of  desperate  woes  just  now 
sounded  rather  strange  to  her ;  but,  seeing  the  girl's  evi 
dent  distress,  she  said  at  once,  — 

4 'Come,  sit  right  down  here  in  the  rocking-chair,  my 
dear,  and  tell  me  what  is  the  matter." 

"  Oh,  the  matter  is  that  I  have  been  engaged  before!19 
cried  Monny  with  a  wailing  burst  of  confession,  as  she 
dropped  into  the  chair. 

There  was  a  little  pause  of  surprise  before  the  widow 
said,  u  Have  you?  Well,  now,  I  had  always  supposed 
that  you  didn't  really  care  for  any  of  'em.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  there  was  none  of  all  your  beaux  that  you  took  a 
truly  serious  fancy  to." 

"  No  more  there  wasn't,"  declared  Monny  vehemently. 
"  But  there  was  one  that  I  had  a  kind  of  fancy  for  when 
I  was  sixteen  ;  but  not  serious.  Oh  !  it  never  could  have 
been  serious,  or  it  would  not  all  have  gone  out  of  my  life 
so,  like  a  dream,  — like  something  that  never  was.  But, 
while  the  dream  lasted,  I  was  engaged  to  him  ;  and  so  it 
has  come  over  me  to-day  that  perhaps  I  ought  to  tell  Mr. 
Leigh.  And  how  can  I  tell  him?"  cried  the  girl  in  an 
anguish  of  reluctance. 

"  Certain,  dear,  Mr.  Leigh  is  not  the  man  to  be  hard 
with  you  about  such  a  thing,  —  only  a  passing  fancy,  as 
you  say." 

"But  it  will  seem  as  if  I  have  had  something  such  a 
sentiment  for  another  man  as  I  have  now  for  Mr.  Leigh ; 
and  I  never,  never  have.  It  will  be  as  if  I  said  to  Mr. 
Leigh,  '  I  cared  for  that  other  man  once  ;  and  now  I  care 
for  you  a  little  more.'  Oh,  how  cheap  it  will  sound!*' 
lamented  the  girl,  her  spirit  breathing  the  cry  of  love's 


A    REVEREND    IDOL.  297 

own  passionate  exclusiveness  :  li  Set  me  as  a  seal  upon 
thy  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm  ;  for  love  is  strong  ,13 
death." 

"And  there's  something  else  all  mixed  up  with  it," 
Monny  broke  out  afresh;  "things  that  will  look  most 
wild  and  improper  ;  the  strangest  journey  that  I  took  once 
to  New  Orleans,  —  I  shall  have  to  tell  Mr.  Leigh  all  al>out 
that  too,  if  I  tell  him  any  thing.  It's  been  going  over 
and  over  in  my  head  all  day.  You  see,  I  have  not  had 
time  before  to-day  really  to  think  of  these  things.  Of 
course,  until  Mr.  Leigh  asked  me  in  plain  words  to  marry 
him,  it  wasn't  for  me  to  be  offering  him  information  about 
my  old  beaux.  And  then  I  have  been  all  swallowed  up 
m  the  picture  —  to  make  it  truly  like  him.  I  felt  born 
into  the  world  for  just  only  that,  —  to  paint  his  perfect 
likeness :  I  could  .not  remember  any  thing  else.  But 
now  the  picture  is  done  ;  and  I  promised  Mr.  Leigh,  when 
he  went  away  this  morning,  that  I  would  not  work  at  all 
in  my  studio,  but  rest  all  the  time  till  he  came  back.  So 
I  have  had  nothing  to  do  all  day  but  think,"  said  Monny, 
who,  like  many  another  woman,  had  got  more  morbid 
and  unstrung  by  a  few  hours'  solitary  brooding  over  a 
personal  matter  than  by  weeks  of  intense  application  to 
a  piece  of  work  requiring  all  her  powers,  albeit  the 
anxious  lover  was  right  in  thinking  that  the  marvellous 
work  she  had  wrought  in  those  weeks  had  been  at  a  strain 
which  required  rest. 

The  other  guardian  of  this  excitable  girl  here  rejoined, 
with  her  view  of  things,  "Yes,  my  dear:  you've  been 
swallowed  up  in  doing  the  picture.  And  a  wonderful 
thing  you've  made  of  it,  —  more  like  Mr.  Leigh  than  he 
is  himself.  And  how  you  make  him  look  more  natural 
and  alive,  painted  in  all  that  queer  old  armor  that  he 
never  wore,  than  in  his  own  actual  coat  and  hat,  which 


293  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

he  does  wear,  Heaven  that  made  you  with  such  gifts  may 
know.  But  all  I  know  is,  that  you  do  it  by  a  swallowing 
up,  which  needs  must  be  at  some  wearing  cost  to  the 
nerves.  And  yet,  instead  of  calming  clown  after  that 
excitement,  and  resting,  as  Mr.  Leigh  wished,  you  go 
swallowing  yourself  up  again  in  something  that  worries 
you  about  an  old  beau,  till  it  grows  bigger  and  bigger, 
as  you  say  yourself, — no  doubt  out  of  all  its  just  and 
natural  size.*' 

4 l  O  aunt  Persy !  it  is  not  a  trouble  I  have  imagined  up. 
I  only  wish  it  was.  You  would  be  astonished  yourself 
at  my  ever  having  done  such  things.  You  see,  even  aunt 
Helen  does  not  know.  She  knows  all  about  my  being 
engaged  that  time,  of  course,  but  not  what  was  mixed  up 
with  it,  —  not  about  my  going  to  New  Orleans.  Mrs. 
Bingham  advised  me  not  to  tell  that  to  aunt  Helen,  nor 
uncle  John,  nor  anybody." 

4 'Mrs.  Bingham?  Who  was  she  to  give  such  advice 
as  that?  "  asked  the  widow,  astonished. 

"She  was  a  New- York  lady,  who  knew  all  about  the 
affair  from  beginning  to  end.  And  when  she  said  to  me, 
k  1  would  not  tell  your  friends  about  this/  I  did  not. 
But  I  did  not  promise  her  not  to  tell  (she  never  asked 
that)  ;  and  now  I  wish  to  tell  you,  aunt  Persy.  Oh !  I 
long  to  see  how  it  will  look  to  somebody  else." 

"And  I  wish  to  hear,"  said  Mrs.  Doane,  thinking  it 
high  time  that  New- York  ladies  who  instructed  girls  to 
keep  secrets  from  their  guardians  should  be  disregarded. 
-Tell  me  all  of  it." 

'•  I  will,  I  will !  "  eagerly  replied  Monny.  "  It  was  a 
Southerner  I  was  engaged  to ;  that  is,  he  was  born  in 
Baltimore,  but  he  had  lived  mostly  in  Europe.  His  name 
was  Carroll  De  Lancey." 

4*  It  was  in  Europe,  then,  that  you  becara*  engaged?" 


A   KEVEflEND   IDOL.  299 

4 'Oh,  no!  It  was  before  I  went  to  Europe.  It  was 
all  over  then.  It  happened  when  I  was  at  boarding- 
school  in  New  York ;  and  it  all  began  by  my  having  his 
sister  for  a  chum." 

"  She  was  one  of  your  schoolmates,  you  mean?  " 
"No,  not  exactly.  She  was  never  under  rules,  like  a 
pupil.  She  was  just  a  young  lady  boarder  in  our  school. 
She  Lad  finished  all  her  schooling  in  France,  in  a  very 
aristocratic  convent  school,  where  some  of  the  pupils 
were  even  royal  princesses.  She  was  very  proud  of  her 
own  lineage,  which  could  be  traced  back  to  a  De  Lancey 
who  was  a  Norman  knight  and  crusader ;  but  she  was 
born  an  American.  Her  father  was  a  rebel  officer,  killed 
in  the  war ;  and  after  his  death  her  mother  had  lived 
abroad  with  her  two  children,  till  she  died.  And  now 
Miss  De  Lancey  had  come  back  ;  and  her  friends  had  put 
her  in  my  school,  merely  as  a  convenient  place  for  her  to 
stay  in  a  few  months,  till  her  twin-brother  Carroll,  who 
was  a  cadet  in  West  Point,  should  be  twenty-one  (be 
cause  they  had  property  affairs  which  could  not  be  settled 
up  till  he  came  to  that  age) ,  and  then  she  was  going  back 
to  Europe  again,  for  she  hated  America  dreadfully. 
That  was  all  I  knew  about  her  at  first ;  for  she  never 
spoke  to  any  of  the  girls,  but  sat  looking  round  her  so 
sulky  and  splendid,  just  like  a  princess  whose  crown  had 
been  stolen,  nobody  could  help  watching  her.  And  one 
day  I  saw  her  in  such  an  attitude,  I  went  up  and  asked 
her  if  I  might  make  a  sketch  of  her,  she  was  so  beauti 
ful.  And  she  turned,  — she  couldn't  stir  without  making 
a  new  picture  of  herself,  —  she  turned  into  such  another 
attitude  as  would  have  scared  me  to  death  if  it  hadu't 
been  perfectly  glorious  too,  just  like  Judith  cutting  off 
the  head  of  Ilolofernos.  She  looked  at  me  that  way  a 
minute,  without  speaking,  and  then  she  rose  up,  with  a 


300  A   EEVEKEND   IDOL. 

kind  of  slow  sign  to  me  to  lead  the  way ;  and  I  took  her 
to  my  room,  which  was  full  of  my  drawings,  for  I  was 
studying  art  very  hard  then  with  my  master.  And  she 
went  from  one  picture  to  another,  making  a  kind  of  stage 
stops  and  starts,  but  not  saying  a  word,  till  suddenly  she 
turned  round  and  broke  out,  like  any  girl,  '  O  you  divine 
little  genius  !  '  She  was  very  extravagant  in  her  speech, 
you  see ;  and  then  she  was  truly  fond  of  pictures,  having 
lived  so  long  in  Italy.  And  she  sat  right  down,  and 
struck  up  a  great  friendship  for  me  on  the  spot,  and  de 
cided  that  she  would  be  my  chum.  And  I  grew  very 
fond  of  her  indeed.  I  liked  all  the  girls,  but  I  had  never 
had  any  truly  dear  intimate  among  them  till  Kate  De 
Lancey  came." 

4 'Well,  now,  I  shouldn't  have  supposed  she  was  one 
to  be  very  fond  of,"  remarked  aunt  Persy,  to  whom 
Judith  cutting  off  the  head  of  Holofernes,  although  doubt 
less  a  useful  agent  for  exterminating  the  enemies  of  the 
Lord,  did  not  suggest  the  most  endearing  style  of  woman 
for  the  intimacy  of  private  life. 

44  Oh.  yes,  she  was  !  "  replied  Monny,  in  behalf  of  her 
Baltimore  Judith.  "Those  fiercely  scornful  ways  she 
had  were  a  little  bit  put  on,  you  see,  —  not  vulgarly :  it 
was  a  behavior  not  at  all  like  what  artificial  airs  usually 
are.  She  was  truly  high  bred,  the  most  elegant  and  per 
fect  young  lady,  whenever  she  chose  to  be.  But  she  did 
a  little  like  to  astonish  people.  And  then  she  looked 
down  on  every  thing  in  America ;  and  yet  being  too  really 
warm  in  her  feelingp,  and  like  a  girl,  to  be  proud  in  the 
icy  style,  she  took  on  that  tragedy-queen  style.  Then 
she  was  in  such  a  fury  against  the  North !  When  we 
were  chums,  she  used  to  just  rave  round  our  room  when 
she  was  in  trouble,  apostrophizing  her  father's  ghost,  and 
crying  that  Massachusetts  had  murdered  him." 


A   REVEREND   IDOL  301 

' '  Well,  I  should  say  that  was  scarce  the  behavior  of 
a  young  lady,"  observed  Mrs.  Doane,  "  when  you  were  a 
Massachusetts  girl." 

''Oh!  somehow  you  couldn't  get  much  provoked  with 
her,"  replied  Monny.  "  You  see,  having  lived  in  Europe 
ever  since  she  was  a  little  girl,  she  was  so  really  ignorant 
of  America,  and  about  the  North  especially  she  made 
such  monstrous  mistakes,  you  couldn't  take  it  quite  seri 
ously  enough  to  get  angry.  No  :  mostly  when  she  stormed 
so,  I  used  to  sit  perfectly  fascinated  to  see  her  attitudes. 
.She  had  the  most  wonderfully  graceful  figure,  taller  than 
mine,  and  slim,  slim  and  straight  as  an  arrow,  yet  per 
fectly  willowy  and  bending :  why,  yon  would  have  said 
that  I  looked  heavy  beside  her,"  declared  Monny,  with 
such  an  accent  as  might  have  designated  Barnum's  fat 
woman. 

"  To  be  sure,"  added  the  girl,  "  when  she  would  go  on 
very  bitterly  about  the  wickedness  of  the  war,  I  would 
say,  'I'm  glad  the  slaves  are  free  ! '  I  put  that  in  every 
time,  —  'I'm  glad  the  slaves  are  free  !  '  And  she  would 
say,  '  Of  course  you  are,  crazy  little  abolitionist,  stark 
mad  under  your  curls,  just  like  all  the  rest.  Aboriginal 
Puritan  you  are  :  don't  I  know  it?  Haven't  I  seen  your 
very  ancestress  ?  —  Rose  Carver —  Meat- axe  —  Standish  — 
whatever  her  name  was.  Hope  I  scorn  to  know  their 
names  !  hope  I  scorn  to  know  American  history !  That 
girl,  I  mean,  standing  up  in  their  old  boat,  in  the  psalm- 
singing  picture  "Landing  of  the  Pilgrims," — the  one 
pretty  woman  they  had  in  their  horrid  crowd  to  save 
them  ;  and  so  they  always  put  her  to  the  fore,  in  a  way 
to  show  her  off,  in  their  ' '  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims. ' ' 
Wouldn't  I  have  landed  them  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  1 
only  I  would  have  fished  the  poor  Rose  out  by  the  golden 
locks,  to  be  your  ancestress,  you  dear.' 


302  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  Rose  Staudish  was  not  really  my  ancestress  at  all,** 
said  Monny  ;  "  but  that  was  the  way  Kate  would  run  on, 
mixing  every  thing  up,  till  she  was  all  out  of  breath,  and 
often  taking  a  sudden  turn  to  hug  me,  after  her  worst 
abusing  of  the  North.  You  see,  although  she  never  left 
off  abusing  Massachusetts,  we  were  truly  fond  of  each 
other.  She  was  an  orphan,  just  as  I  was  ;  and  then  she 
Lad  other  severe  troubles  which  I  had  never  had,  such 
as  money  troubles.  For  all  the  great  wealth  she  had 
been  born  to  had  been  so  swept  away  since  the  war,  that, 
when  I  knew  "Kate,  the  property  left  to  her  and  her 
brother  in  their  own  right  was  but  a  mere  little  remnant. 
But  they  had  a  distant  relation,  very  rich,  in  Louisiana, 
Gen.  Warwick,  a  kind  of  great-uncle  on  their  mother's 
side,  who  had  an  idea  of  making  them  his  heirs,  for  his 
sons  had  been  killed  in  the  war,  and  he  had  no  near  heirs 
alive.  "Well,  Kate  was  always  in  a  worry  lest  this  old 
man,  who  was  in  very  broken  health  (he  had  been  a 
great  fighter  in  the  war),  would  die  without  making  a 
will,  in  which  case  his  money  would  all  go  to  a  certain 
Louisiana  family  named  Regdon,  whom  he  perfectly 
hated  ;  for  he  called  these  Regclons  traitors  to  their 
country,  because,  just  before  the  war,  seeing  it  coming 
on,  they  had  sold  out  their  Southern  property  to  advan 
tage,  and  gone  to  live  in  Europe,  and  so  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  war ;  and  all  their  behavior  in  this  he  con 
sidered  most  basely  cunning  and  unpatriotic.  Well,  these 
Regdons,  who  were  rich  already,  and  whom  Gen.  War 
wick  wouldn't  leave  his  money  to  for  any  thing,  would 
yet  be  able  to  take  it  all  in  law,  if  he  should  die  without 
a  will,  because  they  were  one  degree  nearer  of  kin  to 
him  than  the  De  Lancey  orphans.  And  yet  Gen.  War 
wick,  being  full  of  wild  whims,  Kate  said,  kept  delaying 
to  make  his  will.  It  seemed  his  views  were  what  even 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  303 

Southerners  would  call  wild.  lie  expected  the  w-ir  couM 
some  time  be  foti" ut  over  again,  and  the  Southern  Con 
federacy  be  restored  ;  and  he  wanted  to  leave  his  property 
in  some  way  to  help  on  that  end.  He  wanted  Kate's 
brother,  I  know,  as  the  condition  of  being  made  his  heir, 
to  promise  certain  things  that  he  was  not  willing  to  prom 
ise,  because  he  had  no  idea  of  carrying  them  out.  And 
so,  being  dissatisfied  with  Carroll  De  Lancey,  he  would 
often  get  into  his  head  a  plan  of  leaving  his  wealth  to  the 
State  in  some  way  (his  own  State  of  Louisiana),  so  as 
to  forward  future  revolutionary  schemes.  I  never  clearly 
understood  it  all,"  said  Monny  ;  "  only  that  Kate's  great 
anxiety  always  was  this  Gen.  Warwick,  and  that  he 
would  make  some  kind  of  strange  will,  which  would  be 
set  aside  in  a  court  of  law,  and  so  she  and  her  brother 
get  nothing  at  all.  And  Kate  had  told  me  of  all  these 
affairs  before  ever  I  saw  her  brother  Carroll.  I  saw  him 
for  the  first  time  at  a  cadets'  ball  at  West  Point.  Kato 
and  I  went  there  chaperoned  by  Mrs.  Bingham.  Mrs. 
Bingham  lived  in  New  York,  and  hers  was  the  only 
Northern  family  that  Kate  ever  visited  at  all.  She  was 
the  wife  of  Gen.  Bingham,  who  had  been  bred  to  the 
regular  army,  before  the  war,  you  know ;  and  he  had 
been  minister  to  France,  and  in  many  other  high  posi 
tions,  as  he  was  a  great  public  man. 

''Well,  way  back  in  his  boyhood,  when  he  was  being 
educated  at  West  Point,  Kate  De  Lancey's  father  was  a 
cadet  there  too  ;  and  the  two  were  intimate  friends.  So 
when  the  war  came,  and  they  fought  on  opposite  sides, 
and  Kate's  father  was  killed,  Gen.  Bingham  mourned  for 
bis  early  friend,  though  he  was  a  rebel,  and  ever  after  did 
any  thing  he  could  for  his  widow  and  orphans,  though  he 
was  not  their  legal  guardian.  His  legal  guardians,  I  knew 
afterwards,  could  do  nothing  at  all  with  Carroll ;  and  Gen. 


804  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

Bingham  had  found  him  living  a  very  wild  life  in  Paris, 
when  he  was  scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  and  had  persuaded 
him  to  come  home,  and  enter  West  Point,  thinking,  I 
suppose,  that  he  would  steady  down  there,  and  come  out  a 
fine  man  at  last.  Well,  Mrs.  Bingham's  carriage  used  to 
be  always  coming  to  our  school  to  take  Kate  to  her  house  ; 
an  1  two  or  three  times  Kate  had  got  holidays  for  me  to 
go  with  her  to  Mrs.  Bingham's,  before  we  went  under  her 
care  to  West  Point.  Gen.  Bingham  was  one  of  the  offi 
cial  visitors  to  West  Point,  though  he  did  not  go  with  us 
to  the  ball.  He  was  out  of  the  country  just  then,  and  I 
never  knew  him  at  all ;  but  his  wife  was  a  great  lady,  and 
I  admired  her  very  much." 

"  I  suppose  it  wasn't  a  regular  thing  for  you  to  be 
going  to  balls  when  you  were  away  at  school,  was  it?*' 
asked  Mrs.  Doane. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  Monny.  "  I  never  had  been  at  a  regu 
lar  grown-up  ball  in  my  life  bafore.  But  a  West-Point 
ball  is  not  just  like  other  balls  ;  and  Kate  said  her  brother 
wanted  her  to  come  so  much,  she  would  go,  if  I  would 
like  it.  You  see,  Kate  herself  did  not  care  for  going 
about  in  America ;  for,  besides  other  reasons,  she  was 
engaged  to  a  nobleman  in  Italy,  though  her  friends  did 
not  greatly  favor  the  match,  which  was  another  of  her 
troubles. 

"Well,  I  was  wild  for  dancing  in  those  days:  it  was 
the  one  amusement  that  I  was'truly  fond  of.  And  I  had 
a  new  dress  made,  and  I  thought  it  would  be  splendid 
to  go. 

"And  it  was  splendid,"  murmured  Monny  after  a 
dreamy  pause.  "  I  can  look  back  and  remember,  —  jt:st 
remember,  you  know,  as  you  think  of  something  that 
once  was,  but  which  moves  you  no  more,  no  more  :  in 
that  way,  aunt  Persy,  I  can  think  how  the  night  of  that 


A    KEVEIIEND    IDOL.  305 

ball  was  all  a  wonderful  joy  to  mo.  It  was  ray  very  first 
ball,  and  every  thing  was  so  beautiful  and  strange  with 
newness ;  and  he,  Carroll  De  Lancey,  was  most  beautiful 
and  strange  of  all.  The  first  sight  of  him  was  the  greatest 
surprise  to  me  when  he  came  to  meet  us  at  the  boat.  I 
might  have  known,  of  course,  as  he  was  Kate's  twin- 
brother,  that  he  must  be  in  his  twenty-first  year.  Bui 
she,  being  a  girl,  had  come  of  age,  you  know,  when  she 
was  eighteen  ;  and,  besides  being  legally  free  from  her 
guardians  three  }Tears  sooner  than  her  brother  was,  she 
had  such  a  way  of  taking  all  the  responsibility  about 
their  joint  affairs,  I  had  a  notion,  somehow,  of  her  brother 
as  still  a  boy,  much  younger  than  she  ;  and  there  he  was 
a  man,  and  like  a  young  prince.  He  seemed  older  than 
she,  instead  of  younger,  not  having  her  fitful,  impulsive 
ways.  He  had  her  splendid  beauty  ;  and  he  was  proud  like 
her,  but  in  a  more  careless,  unconscious  style.  He  was 
like  her  in  every  thing,  and  yet  not  like  her  at  all :  I 
mean  there  was  all  the  difference  there  is  between  a  young 
man  and  a  girl. 

"  Well,  he  danced  with  me  at  the  opening  of  the  ball : 
then  I  had  a  few  other  partners,  because  their  names  were 
already  down  on  my  card  ;  but  after  that  he  asked  me  to 
dance  with  only  him.  He  was  one  of  the  managers  of 
the  ball :  so,  of  course,  he  ought  to  have  danced  with  all 
the  belles,  to  have  taken  out  all  the  important  young 
ladies,  in  turn ;  but  he  was  like  his  sister  in  his  way  of 
doing  just  as  he  chose,  and  he  said  he  wished  to  dance 
with  nobody  but  me.  And  as  I  was  only  a  school-girl  out 
for  a  holiday,  and  not  a  young  lady  in  society  yet,  I  did 
not  mind  myself  about  the  proper  etiquette  of  balls  ;  and 
so,  after  the  first  few  sets,  I  danced  with  only  him.  He 
was  a  perfectly  splendid  dancer  ;  and  we  were  trained  very 
carefully  hi  dancing  at  Madime  Melville's,  so  I  could 


306  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

dance  all  night  and  never  be  tired :  and  they  played  all 
the  sweet  Strauss  waltzes,  and  it  was  as  if  we  went 
through  the  air.  And  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  all  life  was 
going  to  be  like  that,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  look  on  her 
face  as  if  she  gazed  back  into  some  incredible  past,  — • 
"only  that,  to  whirl  away  in  the  Strauss  waltzea,  with 
little  sittings-down  between  waiting  for  the  music  to  strike 
i  p  again,  while  your  partner  put  on  your  wraps  so  deli 
cately  you  could  not  stop  to  think  whether  it  was  more 
affectionate  behavior  than  should  be  on  so  short  an  ac 
quaintance.  I  suppose  he  did — did  begin  to  make  love 
to  me  that  very  night,"  confessed  Monny,  blushing  at  the 
confession ;  "  and  the  next  day  he  went  everywhere  I  did, 
although,  of  course,  there  wen  others  in  the  company. 
And  we  went  on  the  river  next  ev*  .Jg  in  the  moonlight ; 
and  he  sang  most  wonderfully  an  old  love-song,  —  sang  it 
all  to  me,  though  we  were  not  alone.  And,  when  I  went 
back  to  school,  he  came  right  on  to  New  York,  and  staid 
at  a  hotel,  and  came  to  see  me  at  Mrs.  Bingham's  ;  and  it 
was  very  soon  indeed  that  we  were  engaged.  You  see, 
you  see,  aunt  Persy,"  pleaded  the  girl,  "Carroll  De 
Lanccy  was  not  at  all  like  a  Massachusetts  young  gentle 
man.  I  mean,  inexperienced  as  I  was  then  in  lovers,  I 
am  sure  I  would  never  have  allowed  any  other  kind  of 
young  man  to  go  on  so  fast :  I  should  have  thought  him 
bold,  and  myself  a  forward  girl  to  allow  it.  But  it  seemed 
just  as  proper  for  Carroll  De  Lancey  to  make  love  at  first 
sight  as  for  Romeo,  or  the  lovers  in  the  old  pictures  of 
the  golden  age.  He  looked  like  those  pictures  :  a  wreath 
would  have  been  as  natural  in  his  hair  as  in  Apollo's.  I 
made  sketches  of  him  as  Apollo :  I  drew  him  in  many 
romantic  characters — oh,  how  could  it  all  have  been?" 
said  the  girl,  again  with  that  same  look  of  wondering  at 
herself  which  her  musing  face  had  worn  that  morning 
when  she  sat  by  her  studio- table  with  Mr.  Leigh. 


A    REVEREND   IDOL.  307 

What  order  of  masculine  personages  wore  wreaths  in 
their  hair  aunt  Persis  did  not  clearly  know,  nor  was  Romeo 
the  most  familiar  of  characters  to  her ;  but  she  began  to 
perceive  that  the  girl  whom  she  had  always  considered 
such  a  marvel  of  discretion  amid  her  crowd  of  lovers  had 
had  her  time  of  young  rashness  too.  And  she  asked,  with 
some  renewal  of  critical  feeling  towards  that  New- York 
lady  of  the  first  society,  "Did  that  Mrs.  Bingham  know 
about  all  this  ?  Was  it  at  her  house  that  the  young  man 
sat  to  you  for  his  picture?  " 

44  O  aunt  Persy  !  he  never  sat  to  me  anywhere  :  it  was 
not  so  bad  as  that.  All  the  pictures  I  ever  made  of  him 
were  from  memory :  it  was  easy  enough  to  do  that  with 
his  photograph  (which  I  had,  of  course,  after  we  were 
engaged),  and  with  Kate  always  to  look  at,  who  had  his 
very  features.  Did  you  suppose  I  ever  was  intimate  with 
him  the  way  I  have  been  with  —  with  Mr.  Leigh?  Never, 
never,  did  I  have  such  an  acquaintance  with  Carroll  De 
Lancey — or  any  other  man,"  declared  the  girl  impetu 
ously. 

"  Yes/'  Monny  went  on  more  quietly,  "  Mrs.  Bingham 
knew  about  it  very  soon  ;  because  Carroll  De  Laucey  told 
her  that  he  was  going  to  marry  me,  and  never  anybody 
else.  She  told  him  that  I  was  only  a  school-girl,  away 
from  my  friends,  and  that  he  must  write  to  them.  I  knew 
afterwards  that  she  was  sorry  it  had  happened :  she 
thought  it  was  too  sudden.  She  was  not  to  blame  at  all. 
She  had  a  great  many  social  and  other  duties,  and  had  not 
observed,  you  see ;  for,  in  all  our  acquaintance,  it  was 
only  a  very,  very  few  times  that  I  ever  saw  him." 

4t  And  did  the  young  man  write  to  your  friends?  "  asked 
Mrs,  Doane. 

"Certainly;  and  I  wrote  o  them  too.  They  were  in 
Europe.  It  \\g,s  the  year  that  my  cousin  Annie  Slabwell 


308  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

was  married,  and  her  father  arid  mother  went  abroad  with 
her  on  the  bridal  tour  that  she  made  with  her  husband. 
So  they  wrote  me  back  from  Europe ;  and  I  remembei 
uncte  John's  writing  me  that  he  should  not  object  to 
Cam  11  De  Lancey  because  he  was  a  Southerner.  lie  said 
all  the  honest  men  in  the  United  States,  North  and  South, 
would  have  to  pull  together  yet  to  save  this  country  from 
its  rascals  ;  and,  since  the  old  quarrel  of  slavery  was 
fought  out  and  ended,  the  next  thing  to  be  done  was  to 
forget  it,  and  the  best  way  to  forget  was  for  Southern 
ers  and  Northerners  to  intermarry.  I  remember  that 
uncle  John  wrote  me  out  all  those  sentiments.  And  aunt 
Helen,  she  liked  the  family  because  it  was  an  aristocratic 
one.  And  although  they  both  wrote,  of  course,  that  I  was 
too  young,  and  things  mnst  not  go  any  farther  till  they 
came  home,  still  they  did  not  really  oppose,  you  see.  And 
so  I  gave  my  promise  to  Carroll  that  I  would  some  time 
marry  him.  And  it  all  happened,'*  said  Monny,  u  in  one 
short  school-term.  Kate's  coming  to  Madame  Melville's, 
and  her  asking  me  to  be  her  chum,  and  the  going  to  West 
Point,  and  my  engagement  to  her  brother,  —  it  all  came 
about  in  that  single  term  ;  and  it  was  at  the  end  of  the 
term  that  the  New-Orleans  journey  was.  At  that  time  I 
was  expecting  aunt  Helen  and  all  of  them  home  very 
soon  ;  but  they  had  not  arrived  yet :  so  I  was  going  with 
Kate  to  spend  the  vacation  in  Maryland,  at  the  estate  of 
some  relatives  of  hers,  named  Carroll,  who  had  invited  us. 
41  So  I  was  packing  my  trunks.  Kate  had  been  gone  to 
West  Point  two  or  three  days,  staying  with  her  brother 
there,  who  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill ;  but  I  had  left 
off  severe  anxiety  about  him,  because  Kate  had  written 
me  back  that  he  would  be  well  and  out  again  right  away, 
and  would  be  sure  to  come  and  see  us  a  few  days  in 
Maryland.  Well,  I  was  doing  my  last  packing,  and  I 


A  KEVEKEND   IDOL.  809 

remeiLfx..'  I  had  just  laid  in  a  trunk  that  ver)'  ball-dress  I 
had  worn  at  West  Point,  when  Kate  burst  into  the  room, 
just  come  from  the  depot.  She  carried  the  most  extraor 
dinary  big  bundle,  and  locked  the  door  behind  her  the 
second  she  was  in  the  room.  Then  she  tore  open  the 
bundle,  and  there  fell  out  of  it  trousers  and  hats;  ana 
she  began  to  strip  off  her  own  dress,  and  put  on  the 
trousers,  as  if  she  had  gone  mad.  Yes,  she  had  in  that 
bundle  a  full  suit  of  her  brother's  clothes  ;  and  she  dressed 
herself  in  them  from  top  to  toe  before  I  fairly  understood 
any  thing,  though  she  talked  as  fast  as  she  could  speak. 
It  seemed  that  Gen.  Warwick  had  had  a  stroke,  and  was 
on  his  ver}7  death-bed,  and  had  telegraphed  to  Carroll  De 
Laucey  to  come  straight  on  and  see  him.  And  the  tele 
gram  had  come  to  West  Point  while  Kate  was  there  ;  and, 
because  her  brother  was  too  sick  to  go,  she  had  determined 
to  go  herself,  dressed  up  in  her  brother's  clothes,  and  pre 
tend  to  be  him." 

"Goodness  alive!"  cried  the  matron.  "Pretend  to 
be  a  young  man  ? ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Monny.  "  I  had  seen  her  fix  herself  up 
to  represent  her  brother  before.  It  was  for  some  private 
theatricals  we  had  at  our  school.  And  the  very  wig  and 
false  mustache  she  had  worn  then  were  in  our  closet  now  ; 
and  Kate  had  them  out  and  fixed  on  in  a  Hash  ;  and  then 
she  imitated  her  brother's  voice  and  air  so,  it  was  his  very 
self.  Well,  she  said  I  must  go  with  her,  dressed  up  like 
a  West-Point  cadet  too.  She  had  brought  a  boy's  suit  of 
clothes  with  her  on  purpose  for  me." 

"And  what  on  earth  did  she  want  to  drag  you  into  her 
wild  doings  for?  "  cried  Mrs.  Doane. 

"  Why,  for  company  on  the  journey.  She  said  how 
could  she  go  travelling  9  thousand  miles  all  alone,  dressed 
up  in  men's  clothes,  and  nobody  with  her  to  know  that  she 


310  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

was  a  girl,  if  she  should  be  sick,  or  any  accident  happen. 
Of  course,  I  could  not  help  seeing  that  would  be  fright 
ful,"  said  Monny.  "  Then  I  begged  her  to  go  in  her  own 
dress.  I  told  her,  if  she  would  only  go  as  herself,  I  would 
go  with  her  in  a  moment,  and  she  could  explain  to  her 
uncle  why  her  brother  could  not  come,  and  take  all  his 
dying  messages.  And  Kate  said  that  was  perfectly  ab 
surd  :  if  Gen.  Warwick  saw  her  come  into  his  room,  only 
a  girl,  of  no  political  consequence,  instead  of  her  brother, 
he  would  be  in  such  a  rage  of  disappointment  he  would 
die  of  rage  on  the  spot,  and  then  there  would  be  no  will 
made.  And  besides,  she  said,  for  two  girls  no  older  than 
we  to  go  travelling  without  a  duenna  —  'twould  be  most 
vulgar  and  indecent." 

"  Indecent !  "  cried  the  confounded  matron.  "And  was 
it  less  indecent  to  go  travelling  in  men's  clothes?  " 

"  I  really  think  it  seemed  so  to  Kate,"  answered  Monny, 
"  she  was  so  used  to  the  European  ideas.  Anyway  she 
wouldn't  listen  a  word  to  my  proposal.  And  she  began 
to  get  very  angry  with  me  for  refusing  to  fall  in  with  her 
plan,  for  there  wasn't  a  minute  to  lose.  And  I  remem 
ber,  in  the  midst  of  her  distraction  and  storming,  I  put 
in  the  question,  whether  her  brother  approved  of  this,  — 
of  her  going  to  Louisiana,  pretending  to  be  him.  And 
she  said  that  her  brother  did  not  even  know  Gen.  War 
wick's  telegram  had  come  ;  that  he  was  out  of  his  head, 
and  could  not  be  told  any  thing.  And  that  frightened 
me  :  I  thought  he  was  sicker  than  they  had  let  me  know, 
and  I  began  to  cry.  And  Kate  dropped  down  on  the  bed, 
and  cried  desperately  too,  and  said  I  could  never  go  to  see 
her  brother,  however  sick  he  was  :  it  wouldn't  be  proper. 
And  the  one  only  thing  I  could  do  to  help  him  was  to  go 
on  this  journey  with  her ;  and  much  he  would  think  I 
cared  for  him,  when  he  got  better  and  found  out  that  I 


A   KEVEKEND   IDOL.  811 

had  refuse*1  to  do  such  a  little  thing  for  his  sake.  And 
It  broke  me  all  down,  Kate's  talking  that  way.  Really, 
you  know,  to  stand  making  little  moral  objections  when 
people  are  going  wild  with  distress,  and  begging  you  to 
do  something  to  help  them,  it  does  seem  as  if  you  were 
just  a  hard- hearted,  unsympathizing  prig ;  and  I  began 
to  give  way  a  little.  And,  the  minute  Kate  saw  it,  she 
began  putting  me  into  the  cadet's  clothes  ;  and,  before  I 
fairly  realized  any  thing,  we  were  in  the  carriage,  both  of 
us  in  cadet's  uniform,  and  on  our  way  to  the  depot. " 

' '  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  away  from  the  school 
in  that  rig?  Where  were  your  teachers?"  asked  Mrs. 
Doane,  feeling  that  somebody  should  have  been  present 
to  stay  that  scandalous  flight. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  "  said  Monny.  "  Kate  managed 
every  thing.  Servants  always  did  just  as  she  told  them, 
no  more  asking  her  questions  than  if  she  had  been  a 
queen.  I  only  knew  there  was  a  carriage  standing  icady 
for  us,  and  we  got  into  it  and  off,  with  nobody  to  stop 
us.  It  was  about  dark,  and  it  had  begun  to  rain,  I  re 
member :  so  the  waterproof  cloaks  that  we  threw  on  to 
hide  our  clothes  looked  all  right ;  and  I  believe  Kate  car 
ried  her  wig  and  mustache  in  her  pocket,  and  put  them 
on  at  the  depot,  after  she  dismissed  the  carriage.  But  it 
was  in  the  carriage,  before  we  got  to  the  depot,  that  she 
cut  off  my  hair.*' 

44  Cut  off  your  hair!  "  repeated  Mrs.  Doane,  aghast  at 
every  new  disclosure  of  the  actions  of  that  possessed 
young  woman  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

44  Yes,  I  wanted  her  to.  I  couldn't  do  any  thing  with 
my  hair  at  all.  Kate  managed  hers  perfectly.  To  begin 
with,  her  head  was  unusually  small  and  round  :  it  was  one 
of  her  beauties.  And,  although  her  hair  was  long,  it  was 
very  straight  and  smooth,  so  she  pinned  it  in  braids  tight 


312  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

round  her  head,  and  then  put  the  wig  right  on  over  them, 
and  that  just  enlarged  her  head  to  the  size  of  her  brother's  : 
so,  with  the  false  mustache,  she  was  his  perfect  image. 
But  I  had  no  wig  ;  and  my  hair,  being  curly  and  very  long 
then,  wouldn't  stay  at  all  tucked  up  under  the  cadet's  cap, 
and  of  course,  having  once  put  on  the  disguise,  I  was  all  in  a 
tremble  for  fear  of  being  found  out  in  it.  And  I  had  some 
scissors  in  my  hand-bag,  and  I  made  Kate  shear  my  hair 
all  off  before  we  got  to  the  depot.  We  gathered  up  the 
hair  as  it  dropped  under  the  scissors  ;  and  I  can  remember 
now  Kate  poking  all  round  over  the  bottom  of  the  carriage, 
in  the  dark,  to  feel  if  there  were  any  stray  locks  :  she  said 
'twould  look  like  such  a  suspicious  slaughter  of  innocents  if 
newly-chopped  off  hair  was  left  lying  in  carriages.  And 
then  we  got  to  the  depot,  and  she  pulled  me  into  some  dark 
corner,  where  we  changed  our  hats  for  the  cadets'  caps ; 
and  she  opened  one  of  my  trunks,  and  threw  in  it  the  hats 
and  my  cut-off  hair,  and,  before  I  ktfew,  we  were  on  the 
night-train,  and  rushing  out  of  New  York  southward." 


A  REVEREND  IDOL.  313 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

44  \  iTELL,"  resumed  Mouny  to  the  auditor,  trho  had 
VV  come  to  listen  very  anxiously  to  the  unfolding 
of  this  strange  tale,  "  when  we  had  got  off  sure  and  safe, 
Kate  began  to  be  in  great  spirits.  I  did  not  quite  under 
stand  then  how  she  could  be  so  perfectly  easy  about  her 
brother ;  for  she  had  a  devoted  affection  for  him.  But  I 
knew  afterwards  that  his  sickness  was  all  caused  by  his 
having  taken  too  much  wine  in  a  student's  frolic ;  that 
he  had  got  so  —  drunk  really  —  it  brought  on  such  fever 
and  delirium,  his  mates  got  frightened  about  him,  and  tele 
graphed  for  his  sister.  But  the  doctor  she  had  for  him 
knew  all  about  such  cases,  and  just  how  long  they  would 
last,  and  that  was  how  she  could  calculate  so  confidently 
on  his  being  out  again  at  a  set  time,  while  yet  he  was  so 
sick  that  he  couldn't  be  told  any  thing  about  the  telegram, 
which  was  what  seemed  a  little  mysterious  to  me  then. 
Kate's  only  explanation  to  me  was,  that  the  doctor  said 
he  had  a  strong  young  constitution,  which  would  bring  him 
out  all  right  in  a  few  days.  And  then  she  repeated  what 
she  had  said  before,  that  a  little  Puritan  like  me  would  be 
just  the  wife  for  Cal :  when  he  was  married,  he  would  take 
hotter  care  of  himself,  and  not  be  sick." 

"  Well,  of  all  the  deceitful  hussies!  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Doane,  who  considered  that  her  well-behaved  Monny  had 
been  the  victim  of  as  precious  a  pair  of  young  scamps 
as  a  slave  holding  aristocracy  ever  produced. 

u  Ko,"  insisted  Monny,  "  she  was  not  deceitful,  as  she 


314  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

saw  things.  Naturally  she  would  not  tell  me,  when  I  was 
engaged  to  her  brother,  exactly  what  had  made  his  strange 
illness  ;  but  I  don't  think  she  considered  those  habits  any 
thing  really  against  him  as  a  fine  match.  Her  notions 
were,  that  it  was  quite  in  the  order  of  things  for  elegant 
young  men  to  be  very  wild  before  they  were  married ; 
that  wives  were  expressly  made  to  steady  husbands  down. 
She  had  always  a  very  funny  style  of  talking  about  men, 
as  if  they  were  somehow  in  the  care  of  women,  — I  mean, 
as  if  women  were  much  the  most  competent  to  all  affairs 
where  managing  and  contriving  was  to  be  done.  That 
was  one  thing  which  made  her  so  gay  on  our  journey. 
She  said  she  had  got  just  the  chance  she  had  wanted  all 
her  life,  —  a  chance  to  be  in  a  man's  place,  with  a  woman's 
gumption.  '  There'll  be  a  will  made  that  will  stand  in  law 
when  I  get  to  Gen.  Warwick's  bedside,'  says  she,  '  which 
it's  more  than  likely  there  wouldn't  be  if  Cal  was  there 
himself,  men  have  such  pragmatical  notions  about  giving 
their  word.  Gen.  Warwick  will  want  me  to  swear  eternal 
enmity  to  Rome,  of  course  ;  that  is  to  say,  Boston  :  there's 
nothing  I'll  swear  quicker.  What's  the  use  of  being  bora 
in  this  atrocious  country,  if  you  can't  take  a  little  practical 
Yankee  view  of  things?  Whom  does  Gen.  Warwick  really 
want  his  estates  to  go  to?  Carroll  and  I,  impoverished 
orphans  of  a  sire  who  gave  his  life  and  his  fortunes  for  the 
sacred  cause,'  said  Kate,  in  that  orating  style  of  hers: 
4  Whom  would  he  most  hate  and  abhor  to  have  them  go  to  ? ' 
she  went  on.  '  Those  renegade  Regdons,  snug  and  smug 
already  in  all  the  unspoiled  goods  that  they  had  the  mean 
long-headedness  to  run  away  with  ?  Or  Northern  carpet 
baggers? —  wouldn't  they  plunder  it  all,  even  if  Gen. 
Warwick  could  leave  his  money  to  the  State  by  anjr  will 
which  would  stand  in  law ;  which  of  course  it  wouldn't, 
with  all  the  fantastic  conditions  he  would  put  in.' 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  315 

"  TVell,"  said  Monny,  "  I  had  always  been  used  to  hear 
Kate  run  on  that  way,  and  I  had  no  doubt  what  she  said 
tfas  all  true  about  Gen.  Warwick's  'own  wishes.  Kate 
would  never  have  tried  to  get  possession  of  a  fortune  that 
others  had  a  more  real  right  to  than  herself,"  said  Moimy, 
correctly  discriminating  that  the  Southern  girl's  unscrupu- 
lousness  was  of  the  sort  which  extends  only  to  means, 
not  to  ends.  "  But  I  felt  more  and  more  doubtful  and 
troubled,"  Monny  went  on,  4'  about  the  way  she  was  going 
to  get  it,  —  the  false  clothes  we  were  dressed  up  in,  and 
every  thing.  Kate,  she  kept  up  all  the  time  as  brave 
and  merry  as  could  be :  she  said  we  were  like  Rosamond 
and  Celia  in  the  Forest  of  Arden.  But  it  wasn't  the  Forest 
of  Arden  :  it  was  the  American  railroad-cars,  full  of  strange 
men — there  were  hardly  any  women  travelling  in  the  night- 
train.  And  when  the  daylight  came  next  morning  it  was 
much  more  dreadful :  I  did  not  dare  stir  out  of  my  seat 
in  that  cadet's  coat  without  any  tails  ;  and  oh,  my  feet  in 
trousers  !  So, ' '  continued  New-England  Monny,  ' '  Kate 
got  out  all  alone  at  the  places  where  our  train,  which  was 
a  through  one,  stopped  for  refreshments.  I  could  not  eat, 
anyway,  as  I  began  to  have  a  sick  headache  with  riding 
all  night  in  the  cars,  and  no  sleep.  But  Kate  took  all  her 
meals  regularly  ;  for  she  said  to  take  all  your  meals  regu 
larly,  and  let  nothing  interfere  with  them,  was  the  very 
strongest  mark  which  distinguished  a  man  from  a  woman. 
And  if  you  could  have  seen  her  buy  herself  a  cigar  after 
the  meals,  and  pretend  to  take  two  or  three  puffs  at  it  on 
the  depot  platforms  while  she  looked  after  the  baggage ! 
No,  Kate  was  really  not  a  coarse  girl,"  insisted  Monny, 
as  the  face  of  Mrs.  Doane  took  a  freshly  horrified  expres 
sion.  "It  only  seemed  to  be  her  way  of  keeping  cool  and 
unconcerned  to  amuse  herself  by  putting  all  those  extra 
touches  into  her  part.  And  nobody  found  her  out  in  it; 


316  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

nobody,  from  beginning  to  end,  ever  imagined  that  she 
was  nof  really  a  young  man.  But  /got  found  out." 

"  OI. !  "  gasped  aunt  Persis. 

"  Yes,  I  did.  It  was  when  Kate  got  out  at  one  of  the 
stations.  My  headache  was  growing  very  bad  then  ;  and  1 
put  up  my  hand,  not  thinking,  and  leaned  my  head  back 
on  it  a  little,  while  the  cars  stopped.  And  a  man  in  the 
sea*  behind  me  suddenly  snatched  the  hand  I  had  put  up  so, 
and  whispered  insultingly  over  my  shoulder,  '  Look  here, 
pretty  miss,  a  girl  who  wants  to  pass  herself  off  for  a  boy 
while  she  goes  travelling  with  her  young  man  had  better 
not  have  such  hands  as  yours.  Give  me  a  kiss  while 
your  other  spark  is  out  of  sight,  and  I  won't  tell  your 
little  game.'  And  all  the  while  the  terrible  coarse  man 
said  those  words,  he  held  my  hand  so  tight  I  could  not  pull 
it  away,  and  I  was  going  to  cry  out  to  the  conductor,  or 
somebody,  for  help,  when  it  struck  all  over  me  that  there 
was  no  help  I  could  call  for ;  that  I  had  put  myself,  by 
that  dress,  out  of  the  ranks  of  respectable  girls  ;  that  I 
was  a  character  who  could  be  taken  up  by  the  police.  It 
was  the  most  dreadful  sensation,  to  know  that  I  was  in  my 
own  country  of  America,  where  men,  North  and  South, 
can  be  counted  on  to  be  respectful  to  all  women  who 
behave  properly,  but  that  I  was  in  an  appearance  of  such 
improper  behavior,  the  worst  man  in  any  crowd  was  at 
liberty  to  speak  to  me  just  as  he  liked,  and  the  best  man 
could  only  think  that  I  deserved  it,  and  ought  to  be 
arrested  by  a  constable.  And  while  I  stood  dumb  and 
faint,  with  this  dreadful  realizing  that  it  was  not  the  Forest 
of  Aivleu,  Kate  came  sauntering  back  into  the  car,  twirling 
her  false  mustache.  You  see,  the  man  behind  me  had 
seized  the  moment  for  all  his  insulting  ways  when  the 
passengers  were  hurrying  in  and  out  of  the  car,  and 
nobody  paying  attention ;  but,  the  minute  he  saw  Kate 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  317 

corning  back,  he  let  go  my  hand.  For,  you  see,  he  never 
imagined  that  she,  too,  was  a  girl  in  disguise  :  he  believed 
that  she  was  really  my  young  man,  and  my  spark,  as  he 
said  in  that  slang  of  his.  Well,  the  train  started  on  ;  and 
the  man  staid  just  where  he  was.  in  the  seat  behind  us, 
from  a  curiosity  to  watch  us,  I  suppose.  And  as  K:»tc 
eat  down  beside  me  I  told  her  right  away,  in  French,  just 
what  the  man  had  said  to  me,  and  all  his  behavior.  Bu! 
instead  of  starting  up  quick,  as  I  supposed  she  woul  1,  to 
change  our  seats  into  another  car,  she  just  turned  slowly 
and  awfully  round  on  the  man,  looking  him  straight  in  the 
eyes,  while  she  said,  in  a  low  undertone  that  yet  sounded 
more  fierce  than  you  can  imagine  through  the  rattle  of  the 
cars,  4  You  touch  her  again,  or  breathe  one  syllable  of 
what  you  know,  and  I'll  have  your  life  !  '  And  the  man 
—  he  was  a  flashy-looking  man,  about  thirty-five  —  actu 
ally  shrank  all  away  in  his  seat,  as  if  death  was  going 
to  spring  on  him  right  out  of  Kate's  eyes.  She  wore, 
all  through  the  journey,  a  seven-barrelled  revolver  in  her 
breast-pocket,  with  the  handle  stuck  up  to  show  ;  but  you 
would  have  said  her  eyes  were  the  deadly  thing,  rather  than 
the  pistol.  And  the  man,  looking  at  them,  just  whispered 
out,  scared  and  abject,  c  I  promise  to  keep  dark,  sir ;  but, 
if  I  might  drop  a  friendly  warning  to  ye,  make  her  put  her 
gloves  on,  put  her  gloves  on  ! ' 

"  At  that,  I  tried  (for  all  my  gloves  were  in  my  trunks) 
to  stuff  my  hands  under  the  edge  of  my  jacket ;  and  Kite 
she  corrected  me  with,  '  Crazy  child  !  put  them  into  y«>iir 
trousers  pockets,  as  a  boy  does.'  You  see,  nothing  could 
be  more  stupid  than  I  was,  or  cleverer  than  Kate,  from 
beginning  to  end. 

"  Well,  while  all  this  went  on,  the  seats  nearest  un  had 
happened  to  be  quite  empty,  so  man}7  passengers  had  left 
the  car  at  the  last  station,  and  Kate  kept  half  turned 


818  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

roimcl  in  her  seat,  holding  that  man  steadily  in  her  eye : 
and  although  I  was  terribly  afraid  that  he  would  break 
from  under  the  spell  which  Kate  seemed  to  havo  laid  on 
him,  when  the  conductor  came  along,  and  give  information 
that  I  was  a  girl,  and  not  a  bo}7,  he  did  not ;  be  let  the 
conductor  go  by  without  a  word.  And  he  never  stirred, 
O"  spoke  again,  till  the  train  began  to  slack  up  to  stop  at 
the  next  station  ;  then  he  bent  forward  a  little,  and  said 
to  Kate,  as  if  he  was  a  prisoner  and  she  his  guard,  '  I 
beg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  the  next  depot  is  where  I  was 
going  to  get  off/ 

"  '  I  will  see  you  landed,  sirrah,'  says  Kate  in  her  most 
tremendous  tragedy  style ;  and,  when  the  train  stopped, 
she  just  marched  out  with  the  man,  and  kept  her  eye  on 
him,  from  the  very  platform  of  the  cars,  till  the  train  rolled 
out  of  sight  of  the  depot,  where  I  could  see  him  standing 
still,  as  if  he  hardly  dared  to  breathe. 

"•  Well,  Kate  came  back  to  her  seat  by  me  ;  and  the  first 
word  she  said  was,  '  I  am  disappointed  in  you,  Monny 
Rivers,  —  completely  disappointed.  In  the  theatricals  at 
Madame  Melville's  you  did  Juliet's  soliloquy  before  taking 
the  poison  so  like  a  born  stage-genius,  I  supposed  noth 
ing  would  be  easier  to  you  than  a  little  bit  of  acting 
like  this.'  I  answered  that  I  could  act  Juliet  because  I 
thought  I  was  Juliet,  I  forgot  myself  entirely  ;  but  that  I 
could  not  forget  myself  now  :  I  remembered  every  minute 
that  I  was  Monny  Rivers,  not  in  my  proper  clothes." 

Of  the  two.  Monny  had  the  real  dramatic  genius  ;  Kate 
De  Lancey  was  only  theatrical :  still  it  was  the  latter  who 
could  bring  all  her  clever  mimetic  talent  admirably  to  bear 
in  a  piece  of  artifice  like  this  masculine  masquerade,  while 
the  girl  who  had  made  quite  an  inspired  personation  of 
Juliet  wholly  lost  her  power. 

"  And  then,"  said  Monny,  continuing  her  narration  to 


A   REVEKEND   IDOL.  319 

Mrs.  Doune,  "  I  gathered  up  my  courage  to  tell  Kate  that 
I  was  not  going  any  farther  in  those  clothes.  She  asked 
me  if  I  was  mad.  I  told  her  no,  but  that  I  should  be  if 
I  tried  any  longer  to  play  a  part  that  she  must  see  I  was 
a  miserable  failure  in.  I  said,  '  I  cannot  put  people  down 
an  you  do,  Kate :  I  have  not  the  majesty,  nor  the  self- 
control.  I  am  of  worse  weakness  in  this  than  you  think. 
I  came  near  laughing  right  out  when  you  turned  round  on 
that  man  in  such  a  blood-thirsty  manner.  I  shook  inside, 
both  with  laughter  at  the  idea  of  his  being  so  afraid  of 
you,  only  a  dressed-up  girl,  and  with  terror  lest  he  would 
find  you  out.  I  shall  laugh  and  cry  pretty  soon  all  in 
the  same  breath :  I  shall  have  the  hysterics,  like  Lilly 
Lambert  at  school.' 

"  Kate  said,  '  Would  I  pretend  that  I  was  such  a  silly, 
sentimental  idiot  as  Lilly  Lambert?  '  then,  when  she  found 
out  that  I  was  actually  in  earnest,  we  had  a  tremendous 
battle.  What  I  proposed  was  to  stop  at  the  city  of  Jackson 
in  Mississippi,  where  the  train  was  to  arrive  very  soon,  go 
up  to  a  hotel  (taking  one  of  my  trunks) ,  dress  myself  out 
of  it  in  my  own  clothes,  and  then  go  on  the  rest  of  the 
journey  with  Kate,  in  my  proper  character.  Of  course  I 
did  not  mean  to  desert  her  utterly.  For  I  had  started  and 
come  thus  far  with  her ;  and,  if  there  ever  had  been  a 
possible  moment  when  she  would  have  given  up  the  jour 
ney  if  I  had  stood  out  firm  in  my  refusal  to  take  it  with 
her,  that  chance  was  lost  now  ;  and  I  felt  I  was  so  far 
involved  in  her  action  as  to  have  no  right  to  forsake  her 
in  that  dangerous  disguise  that  she  had  always  been  afraid 
to  travel  .in  quite  alone.  But  I  told  her,  for  myself,  I 
must  go  back  into  my  own  dress.  I  said,  '  You  have 
decided,  that,  when  we  get  to  New  Orleans,  it  will  be  best 
for  me  to  be  left  at  a  hotel  there  while  you  go  on  alone  to 
your  uncle's  place,  which  you  say  is  six  miles  out  of  the 


320  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

city.  Perhaps  he  will  live  several  days  yet ;  and  what 
shall  I  do  all  that  time  at  the  hotel  ?  I  shall  be  sure  to  get 
found  out  there,  unless  1  tell  lies  that  I  cannot  tell,  and 
which  would  all  be  useless  if  I  were  willing  to  tell  them  : 
for  the  blushes  will  go  over  and  over  my  face,  if  any  man 
boks  hard  at  me  in  these  clothes ;  that  is  something 
beyond  my  power  to  prevent.  And,  when  I  am  found 
out,  it  is  not  merely  that  I  shall  be  put  in  the  lock-up, 
but  men  who  hunt  out  every  thing  as  constables  and 
detectives  do  will  hunt  out  all  about  me  just  the  same  if  I 
do  not  speak  one  word.  They  will  find  out  who  I  came 
to  New  Orleans  with ;  they  will  find  out  about  you, 
Kate,  and  that  you  are  another  girl  dressed  up  in  man's 
clothes  —  and  then  what  will  be  ?  ' 

*'  Well,  Kate  quieted  down  a  little  as  I  said  all  this; 
for,  of  course,  she  had  been  wofully  disappointed  in  me, 
as  she  said,  and  she  could  not  help  being  afraid  that  I 
should  be  found  out  again,  and  with  far  worse  conse 
quences,  when  she  wras  not  with  me  to  crush  people.  So 
she  sat  silent,  and  thinking  a  moment,  then  she  broke 
out,  — 

"  'Now,  Plymouth  Rock,  now,  Miss  Bunker  Hill,  will 
you  hear  reason  ?  If  I  give  in  to  you  on  the  main  point, 
will  you  absolutely  obey  me  in  the  details  ?  If  I  consent 
to  your  changing  back  into  a  girl,  you  cannot  go  back  into 
your  own  name :  for  I  shall  stay  a  man,  and  you  cannot 
travel  with  me  without  taking  my  name  ;  you  must  pass  as 
my  wife.'  I  asked  her  if  I  could  not  as  well  be  her  sister. 

"  '  Good  heavens  ! '  she  said.  '  If  we  leave  the  train  for 
this  business,  haven't  we  got  to  stay  overnight  at  Jackson  ; 
and  what  a  frightful  thing  to  be  shut  up  alone  in  separate 
rooms  all  night  at  a  strange  hotel ! '  : 

4 'Lord  save  her!"  ejaculated  aunt  Peisis,  "if  she 
wasn't  just  a  girl,  after  all !  Smoking  cigars,  and  threaten- 


A   PwEv^EBEND    IDOL.  321 

ing  men's  lives  with  seven-barrelled  guns,   and  yet  too 
timersome  to  sleep  alone  in  a  strange  place." 

k'Of  course,"  answered  Monny,  tl  we  wouldn't  either 
of  us  have  liked  that.  And  I  was  expecting  then  that  my 
name  would  some  time  really  be  Mrs.  Carroll  DL-  Lar^ey  ; 
and  so,  as  Kate  said,  it  would  only  be  anticipating  the 
future  a  little  to  take  that  name  now,  and  I  agreed  to  it. 
So  we  left  the  cars  at  Jackson,  and  went  up  to  a  hotel 
and  staid  all  night;  and  Kate  managed  every  tiling  so 
cleverly,,  just  as  when  we  left  our  school  in  New  York, 
that  I  went  into  the  hotel  a  boy,  and  came  out  of  it  a 
young  lady,  without  anybody's  detecting  it.  And  our 
names  were  registered  at  the  hotel  as  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Carroll  De  Lancey ;  and  we  took  the  earliest  morning- 
train,  and  went  on  to  New  Orleans,  and  had  no  mishaps, 
except  that  we  forgot  to  have  the  trunk  that  we  had 
taken  up  to  the  hotel  checked  at  the  depot ;  and  it  was 
left  behind  on  the  platform  there.  But  we  never  sent 
back  for  it :  I  told  Kate  there  was  nothing  in  it  that  was 
worth  the  trouble.  You  see,  it  was  that  same  trunk  which 
held  the  West- Point  ball-dress ;  for  my  travelling-suit, 
that  I  was  all  dressed  in  to  go  to  Maryland,  had  been  flung 
into  that  trunk,  hat  and  all,  in  New  York,  when  Kate 
dressed  me  in  such  a  hurry  in  the  cadet's  uniform.  The 
uniform  that  T  took  off  at  the  Jackson  Hotel  was  in  the 
trunk  now,  :>f  course ;  and  there  was  not  much  else  in  it 
but  the  smashed  old  ball-dress  and  my  cut-off  hair ;  and 
so  we  let  the  trunk  go,  and  never  saw  it  again.  And  I 
felt  so  comfortable  to  be  in  my  own  dress  again,  that, 
just  before  we  got  to  New  Orleans,  I  went  sound  asleep 
in  the  cars.  I  remember  it,  because  it  was  the  only  time 
in  my  life  thit  I  ever  could  fall  asleep  in  the  cars.  But 
all  the  night  before,  at  the  hotel,  I  had  not  been  able  to 
shot  my  eyes  for  thinking  what  if  we  should  be  found  out 


322  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

in  the  morning :  so  at  last  I  was  fagged  out  enough  to 
drop  asleep  even  on  the  train.  Well,  I  woke  up  out  of 
my  nap  with  a  great  start.  Our  train  had  stopped ;  my 
head  was  on  Kate's  shoulder  ;  and  her  eyes  were  flashing 
lightnings  (the  way  they  did  when  she  was  angry)  after 
somebody  who  seemed  to  have  just  left  the  car.  I  asked 
her  what  was  the  matter.  ;  That  sham  duchess  !  '  said 
she,  4  that  humbug  Madonna !  She  presumes  on  her 
beauty  to  be  insolent.  I  looked  her  down  in  her  low-born 
curiosity,  —  low-born  she  is,  I  say,  for  all  her  Queen  of 
Heaven  airs,  and  style  of  beauty.  The  one  thing  a  real 
gentlewoman  does  not  do  is  to  pry  and  peer.  I  looked 
her  down.  She'll  know  a  De  Lancey  the  next  time  she 
sees  one :  she'll  know  her  betters,  and  try  her  stares  on 
somebody  else.' 

"  4  Why,  what  ever  did  she  do? '  I  said. 

"  '  Do? '  says  Kate.  '  Wasn't  I  so  pleased  to  see  you 
asleep  at  last,  you  poor  little  wakeful  owl,  I  just  hugged 
you  up  a  little,  that  you  might  sleep  sounder ;  and  with 
your  pathetic  short  locks,  that  I'd  cropped  off  all  uneven 
in  that  dark  old  carriage,  twirling  in  such  babyish  rings 
over  your  bigoted  Boston  head,  didn't  I  kiss  you  one  email 
kiss,  forgetting  that  I  was  a  man  ;  and  along  must  come 
My  Lady,  and  turn  round  with  her  slurring  stare.  Eye 
lashes  half  a  yard  long  ought  to  be  sweeping  round  in 
search  of  good  sights,  and  not  evil.  She's  a  swindle,  with 
her  divine  gray  eyes  —  and  a  fool,  a  fool !  She  might 
have  seen,  through  a  forest  of  false  mustaches,  that  I 
kissed  you  like  your  mamma,  and  not  like  your  lover  of 
an  improper  sort.' 

4  4 '  O  Kate  !  '  I  said,  *  how  could  she  help  staring  ? 
Don't,  don't  forget  that  you  are  a  man  again  ! ' 

"Kate  said  she  wouldn't,  and  that  she  had  forgotten 
once  in  a  worse  way  than  I :  so  now  she  was  more  than 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  323 

even  with  me,  she  said.  You  see,  Kate  was  truly  good- 
natured  and  generous.  And  that  was  the  last  of  our  mis 
haps.  Very  soon  we  were  in  the  main  depot  of  New 
Orleans.  And  an  odd  chance  happened  to  us  there.  I 
had  barely  stepped  from  the  cars  when  I  heard  somebody 
saying,  in  such  an  astonished  voice,  '  Why,  how  come  you 
here,  Miss  Rivers,  and  with  Mr.  Carroll  De  Lancey?  Is 
Miss  Kate  along  too?  ' 

"I  turned  round,  and  there  was  Mrs.  Bingham's  maid 
Jane.  Then  I  remembered  Kate  had  told  me  on  the 
journey  that  she  was  afraid  of  crossing  the  Binghams 
somewhere ;  for  they  had  gone  South  a  week  before. 
"Well,  Kate  seized  Jane's  arm  now,  and  said  quickly, 
'  Where  is  your  mistress? '  —  '  She's  gone  up  to  St.  Louis 
with  Gen.  Bingham,'  says  Jane. 

"  4  When  are  they  coming  back? '  Kate  asked. 

"  '  Gen.  Bingham  is  not  coming  back  at  all,'  said  Jane. 
*  He's  going  on  up  the  river.  And  Mrs.  Bingham  we  some 
expected  to-night,  and  that's  why  me  and  Halifax  came  to 
the  cars  to  wait  on  her:  but  she  hain't  come;  so  she 
won't  be  here  now  for  another  twenty-four  hours  certain.' 

144  Go  and  tell  Halifax,'  says  Kate,  '  to  get  two  swift 
saddle-horses  —  one  for  me,  and  the  other  for  himself  — 
to  go  out  to  Ashcroft,  Gen.  Warwick's  place.  The  gen 
eral  is  dying.  Tell  Halifax  to  be  here  with  the  hoises  the 
quickest  possible.' 

"  '  This  turns  out  good  luck,  instead  of  bad,'  said  Kate 
to  me  as  Jane  hurried  off.  '  The  Binghams  have  rooms  at 
the  St.  Charles  Hotel :  so  you  can  be  bestowed  right 
there  ;  while,  as  for  me,  I  shall  have  no  loss  of  time  get 
ting  to  Gen.  Warwick.  Halifax  was  born  a  slave  in  New 
Orleans,  and  knows  the  whole  country  round  here.' 

"  '  Stall  you  tell  him  who  you  really  are?  '  I  whispered 
to  Kate.  '  Halifax?  no  ;  Jane?  yes,'  said  she.  l  She's  a 


324  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

shifty  creature,  and  nobody  knows  what  I  may  want  of 
her  yet.'  So  Kate  took  Jane  aside,  when  she  came  back, 
and  told  her  the  secret.  And  Halifax  came  very  soon  with 
the  two  saddle-horses  ;  and  Jane  hushed  up  her  surprise, 
though  she  did  give  a  little  bit  of  a  cry  when  she  saw 
Kate  spring  on  her  horse  just  like  a  man.' ' 

4 'Mercy!"  echoed  the  Puritan  matron,  with  another 
cry. 

44  Oh,  she  carried  it  off  wonderfully !  "  rejoined  Monny. 
"  Nobody  ever  mistrusted  that  she  was  not  really  Car 
roll,  —  no,  not  Gen.  Warwick  himself.  She  got  there  be 
fore  he  died,  and  the  will  was  made  as  she  wanted  it,  and 
he  lived  only  a  few  hours  after ;  and  I  had  word  of  all 
this  the  next  afternoon,  when  Halifax  came  riding  into  the 
city  again,  with  a  note  from  Kate  to  me,  saying  that  it 
was  all  over,  and  I  could  tell  Mrs.  Bingham  now,  if  she 
had  got  back. 

""Well,  Mrs.  Bingham  arrived  about  dark  at  the  hotel, 
and  I  had  just  done  telling  her  how  I  came  to  be  there, 
when  Kate  came  herself.  Halifax  happened  to  be  in  the 
room  just  then,  taking  some  orders  from  his  mistress, 
so  Mrs.  Bingham  was  forced  to  speak  to  Kate  as  if  she 
was  Carroll,  till  Halifax  went  out.  Then  she  said  very 
sternly,  4  Kate  De  Lancey,  take  off  those  mad  riggings, 
and  go  to  bed  ! ' 

44  4 1  shall  obey  you,  madam,'  says  Kate,  bowing  very 
low  and  humbly.  She  had  been  trained  in  that  French 
convent  school  in  a  beautiful  respect  to  superiors  ;  and 
she  really  liked  Mrs.  Bingham,  who  was  a  very  queenly 
lady  herself.  So,  with  only  those  few  words,  and  a  lovely 
meek  courtesy,  she  came  right  away  to  her  room,  our 
room,  which  we  had  together  in  the  hotel,  close  to  Mrs. 
Bingham' s.  But  when  she  got  there,  with  only  me,  you 
know,  she  tore  off  her  wig  and  mustaches,  arid  danced 


A   KEVEREND   IDOL.  325 


round  with  her  long  hair  tumbling  over  her  man's 
and  hugged  me  round  the  neck,  and  just  went  wild  with 
triumph.  4  1  defy  them  to  do  any  thing  about  it  now  !  * 
sa'd  she,  —  'Mrs.  Biugham,  or  anybody  else.  Will  they 
g:i  embarrassing  the  hapless  orphan  of  a  murdered  sire  by 
betraying  what  shifts  she  was  reduced  to  to  get  her  own  T 
They'll  never  do  it.  Gen.  Bingham  went  to  see  Gen. 
Warwick  once,  himself,  to  persuade  him  to  provide  for 
Carroll  and  me  in  his  will.  And  what  have  I  done,  but 
pacify  a  poor  dying  old  hero  by  promising  what  he  asked  ? 
And,  if  Cal  doesn't  fulfil,  how  can  I  help  it?  '  And  Kate 
whirled  me  round  the  room  in  her  joy,  crying  that  we 
should  all  be  rich  now  forever,  and  could  be  married 
right  away,  the  whole  of  us,  and  go  to  live  in  Europe. 
And  all  I  knew  was  that  she  carried  every  thing  through 
successfully  ;  and,  although  Mrs.  Bingham  disapproved 
dreadfully,  she  didn't  see  any  way  to  interfere,  I  suppose, 
at  that  late  stage  of  affairs." 

"  Well,  no,"  admitted  Mrs.  Doane,  "I  don't  know  as 
anybody  could  have  seen  it  a  clear  duty  to  tell  what  that 
harum-scarum  girl  had  done,  bad  as  it  was,  playing  tricks 
at  death-beds.  Since  it  seems  the  rich  man  had  had 
nobody  in  his  mind  for  real  personal  heirs  but  them 
two  orphans,  so,  very  likely,  at  the  last  he  would  have 
left  them  his  money  pretty  much  the  same,  if  the  girl 
hadn't  done  that  wild  piece  of  daring,  to  make  sur?. 
Most  likely  the  New-  York  lady,  Mrs.  Bingham,  thought 
so,  and  felt  no  right  to  do  any  thing  that  might  stir  up 
strife  about  the  will,  seeing  there  was  them  who  would 
have  bee:i  eager  to  set  it  aside  so  as  to  come  into  the 
property  themselves.  But,  anyway,  'twas  a  tenibJe 
mixed-up  business  ;  and  I  hope  —  Did  you  go  out  to 
that  place  at  all  yourself,  —  that  country-place  where  you 
say  this  Gen.  Warwick  died?"  suddenly  asked  the 

? 


326  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

matron,  feeling  that  it  would  be  some  relief  to  know  that 
Monny  had  been  kept  from  the  immediate  locality  where 
a  will  was  made  under  such  conditions. 

"Oh,  no!"  said  Monny.  "And  Kate  herself  nevei 
went  out  there  again  in  man's  clothes.  She  had  brought 
a  trunk  with  her  from  New  York  ;  and  she  changed  back 
into  her  own  dress  that  very  night  —  Mrs.  Bingham  sent 
Jane  in  to  help  her  dress,  I  remember.  Then  Kate  staid 
hid  in  our  room,  and  never  stirred  out  of  it  till  her 
brother  came :  he  came  only  two  or  three  days  after 
us." 

44  Brother  —  came?  "  repeated  Mrs.  Doane  in  bewilder 
ment. 

"Certainly,"  said  Monny.  "Kate  had  left  directions 
for  him  to  follow  us  just  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  travel ; 
and,  when  he  arrived  in  New  Orleans,  Kate  slipped  out 
of  the  hotel  by  a  back  door,  unobserved,  met  him  at  the 
depot,  came  back  to  the  hotel  leaning  on  her  brother's 
arm  as  a  young  lady  (coming  in  by  the  front  entrance 
of  the  hotel  this  time),  making  all  the  parade  she  could, 
on  purpose  to  attract  attention.  Her  plan  was,  you  see, 
to  represent  that  Miss  De  Lancey,  the  sister,  was  the 
one  of  them  who  had  just  arrived." 

"Mercy  on  us!  If  that  girl  wasn't  the  beat-all!" 
ejaculated  Mrs.  Doane,  as  she  gradually  took  in  this  last 
transformation  of  Miss  Kate. 

"He  got  there,  the  real  Carroll  did,"  resumed  Mon 
ny,  "  just  in  time  for  the  funeral.  So  the  brother  and 
sister  went  together,  each  in  their  own  proper  character, 
to  the  funeral,  and  then  together  again  the  next  day  to 
hear  the  will  read  ;  and  from  first  to  last  nobody  ever 
guessed  but  that  Carroll  De  Lancey  himself  was  with 
Gen.  Warwick  when  he  died,  and  that  it  was  his  sistei 
who  came  a  few  days  later.  You  see,  Kate  never  over 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  327 

looked  any  least  little  circumstance  that  might  help  to 
mix  her  identity  more  completely  with  her  brother's. 
For  instance,  all  the  time  that  we  two  were  on  the  cars, 
travelling  South,  Carroll  was  absent  from  his  school- 
quarters.  His  mates  had  him  in  hiding  somewhere,  away 
from  the  military  academy :  Kate  had  charged  them  to 
keep  him  so.  I  suppose  the  reason  she  gave  them  was 
that  she  did  not  wish  the  school  authorities  to  know  about 
his  drinking  so  much  ;  but  she  had  the  deeper  reason  of 
the  disguise  she  was  going  to  put  on  :  she  had  to  pro 
vide,  of  course,  against  the  appearance  of  a  Carroll  De 
Lancey  in  two  places  at  once.  And  I  know  the  cadets 
who  had  her  brother  in  charge  managed  just  as  she  told 
them.  She  was  so  beautiful,  you  see,  young  men  would 
do  any  thing  for  her." 

' '  Whom  did  you  come  back  from  New  Orleans  with  ?  ' ' 
suddenly  asked  Mrs.  Doane,  with  some  passing  alarm  at 
finding  that  Monny's  girl-companion  had  so  completely 
imposed  on  all  beholders  the  idea  that  she  was  a  young 
man. 

"  Oh !  I  came  back  alone  with  Mrs.  Bingham,"  replied 
Monny,  looking  up  unconsciously.  "And  I  never  saw 
Carroll  De  Lancey  again.  You  see,  I  fell  all  out  of  love 
with  him  one  miserable  evening,  right  there  at  the  St. 
Charles  Hotel,  so  that  in  my  heart  I  really  wanted  to 
break  off  my  engagement  then  ;  but  I  did  not  feel  it  right 
to  when  I  could  give  no  positive  reason.  But,  when  uncle 
John  came  home,  he  broke  the  engagement  right  off.  He 
knew  positive  reasons  why  I  should  not  marry  him.  O 
aunt  Persy !  uncle  Jot  n  had  found  out  bad  things  about 
him  in  Paris;  that,  besides  drinking  too  Much  wine,  he 
was  very  wild  in  other  ways  —  in  —  in  ways  not  to  be 
talked  about.  Uncle  John  was  more  angry  than  I  ever 
saw  him  before  in  all  my  life ;  for  he  found  that  he  had 


328  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

gone  right  on  in  all  those  unmentionable  dissipations  just 
the  same  while  he  was  engaged  to  me.  When  I  knew 
that  (aunt  Helen  told  me),  I  understood  then  all  my  blind 
feeling  about  him  that  unhappy  night  at  the  hotel  when  I 
repented  so  that  I  was  engaged  to  him.  It  was  the  night 
after  the  will  was  made.  Kate  staid  out  at  Ashcroft,  but 
Carre '11  rode  into  the  city  to  spend  the  evening  with  me  in 
Mrs.  Bingham's  parlor.  She  was  in  the  bed-room  of  her 
maid  Jane,  who  was  taken  very  sick,  most  of  the  time  that 
evening :  so  I  was  much  alone  with  Carroll.  He  wanted 
me  to  marry  him  right  away  ;  and  perhaps  his  head  was  a 
little  turned  by  having  come  into  his  fortune,  or  he  had 
been  taking  too  much  wine  again  —  oh  !  I  cannot  explain 
it,  aunt  Persy ;  only  I  did  not  like  his  manners  that  night 
at  all.  I  wished  he  would  go  ;  I  wished  Mrs.  Bingham 
would  come  back  into  the  room  —  and  oh,  I  wished  my 
mother  was  alive  !  I  was  so  young  —  it  was  only  a  blind, 
blind  repulsion  I  had  for  him  ;  but  I  understood  it  all 
afterwards,"  said  the  Puritan  girl,  whose  Parisian-South 
ern  lover  had  been  by  no  means  a  villain,  no  betrayer  of 
innocence  in  high  circles  or  low :  he  had  merely  plunged 
so  deeply  into  the  world's  old,  old  ways  of  evil,  that,  even 
in  these  young  years,  the  returnless  delicacy  of  the  heart 
had  passed  away. 

"And  you  say  you  never  saw  him  again?"  said  Mrs, 
Doane. 

"No;  because  we  left  New  Orleans  (Mrs.  Bingham, 
and  poor  Jane,  and  I)  the  very  next  morning,  at  daybreak. 
It  was  the  New-Orleans  climate  that  had  caused  Jane'a 
sickness  ;  and  the  only  hope  of  saving  her  life,  the  doctors 
said,  was  to  get  her  right  off  on  the  water :  so  Mrs.  Bing 
ham,  who  was  very  fond  of  Jane  (she  had  lived  with 
her  many  years),  started  with  her  at  once.  And  she 
fook  me  with  her  merely  because  it  was  more  proper,  of 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  329 

course,  than  for  me  to  be  left  to  go  home  with  the  others. 
But  poor  Jane  died  011  the  passage,  and  was  carried  home 
to  Mrs.  Bingham's  only  to  be  buried." 

"  Did  not  the  young  man  come  after  you?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Doans. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  He  came  right  on  to  New  York.  But,  by 
the  time  he  got  there,  uncle  John  had  come  home ;  and 
he  saw  Carroll  De  Lancey,  and  forbade  him  ever  to  2ome 
near  me  again.  And  I  never  have  seen  him  since." 

' *  And  never  have  told  your  uncle  and  aunt,  you  say, 
about  that  journey  South?  " 

4 'No,"  replied  Monny.  "You  see,  I  was  staying  at 
Mrs.  Bingham's  when  uncle  John  came.  She  had  become 
like  an  old  friend  to  me  ;  for  one  day,  in  asking  me  about 
my  parents,  it  came  out  that  a  younger  brother  of  hers 
had  been  poor  papa's  most  intimate  friend  in  college  — 
she  remembered  to  have  heard  all  about  how  he  was 
killed.  So,  in  all  this  trouble  of  breaking  off  my  engage 
ment,  she  was  like  a  mother  to  me  ;  and  when  she  said,  '  I 
would  not  mention  this  journey  to  New  Orleans,  even  to 
your  friends,'  I  did  not." 

"  Well,  doubtless  she  had  good  reasons.  She  seems  to 
have  meant  the  right  thing." 

"Indeed  she  did.  And  it  happened,  that,  right  after 
all  this,  I  went  to  Europe  in  the  bridal  party  of  my  cousin 
Harry  Shibwell,  who  was  married  now ;  and  his  wife's 
father  and  mother  and  myself,  all  went  in  the  party 
abroad.  And  before  I  came  home  from  Europe  I  heard 
of  poor  Kate's  cleatn." 

'•Her  death  too?"  repeated  Mrs.  Doane,  startled  for 
a  moment  (but  the  thought  soon  faded  away)  at  finding 
how  few  were  the  original  witnesses  left  alive  to  Monny 's 
strangely  entangled  adventure. 

*4  Yes  :  s  le  died  in  Italy,  in  a  year  after  her  marriage 


330  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

there  to  that  nobleman  she  was  engaged  to.  I  was  truly 
fonder  of  Kate  than  of  any  girl  I  ever  knew :  and,  after 
her  death,  her  memory  and  that  of  her  brother  all  mingled, 
and  grew  in  my  mind  to  something  sad  and  tearful :  it 
was  as  if  he  was  dead  too,  and  his  faults  no  more  to  be 
spokec  of.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  had  any  tenderness  for 
Carroll  De  Lancey  as  for  a  lost  lover,  for  I  had  not.  You 
see,  I  could  never  have  loved  him  truly  ;  for  all  the  me-uory 
of  him  faded  out  swiftly  and  utterly  as  a  dream  —  except 
the  lesson  of  it :  that  lasted,  and  went  deep.  I  never 
forgot  that  once  in  my  life  I  had  found  a  young  man  so 
charming  as  to  fancy  that  I  wished  to  be  with  him  always, 
and  yet  that  I  grew  sick  to  death  of  him  all  in  a  minute. 

0  aunt  Persy,  that  was  an  experience  I  never,  never  could 
forget !     Why,  the  very  reason  I  have  had  so  many  beaux 
has  been  because  I  did  not  dare,  remembering  my  wild 
delusion  of  being  engaged  to  Carroll  De  Lancey,  to  receive 
the  exclusive  attentions  of  one.    It  is  going  with  one  alone 
which  really  draws  you  into  sentimentalities  before  you 
know  ;  whereas,  when  you  have  many  beaux,  you  just  talk 
nonsense  to  them  all  round,  which  does  not  lead  to  any 
thing  serious  at  all. 

"  No,  aunt  Persy,  I  have  never  had  serious  relations  with 
beaux  except  that  once,  nor  ever  allowed  any  young  man 
to  behave  to  me  as  a  favored  lover  does,  except  just  Car 
roll  De  Lancey.  But  if  I  tell  Mr.  Leigh  about  him  now, 
and  he  happens  to  remeniber  all  those  young  men  who 
were  here  to  see  me  Tvhen  lie  m»t  came  to  this  house,  will 
it  not  seem  to  him  as  if  1  nay*1.  Decu  giving  my  heart  away 
piecemeal  all  along,  a?  if  I  have  been  ti«ly  a  great  flirt, 
and  began  very  improperly  young  indeed  'i — engaged  when 

1  was  a  school-girl.     How  can  I  bear  for  him  to  have  such 
an  idea  of  me? "  wailed  Monny  afresh. 

kiO  aunt  Persy!  "  she  broke  out  anew,  "of  ccnise  ti 


A    KEVEKEND    IDOL.  831 

would  never,  never  be  right  for  me  to  marry  a  minister, 
if  I  were  not  in  true  sympathy  with  his  life  and  work. 
But  I  o?7i  in  true  sympathy  with  the  kind  of  minister 
Mr.  Leigh  is.  If  he  were  like  some  ministers,  strict  about 
trifles,  or  laying  great  stress  on  doctrines,  and  the  neces 
sity  of  belonging  to  his  own  particular  church,  why  then 
I  could  not  honestly  profess  to  be  a  very  strong  believer 
of  that  kind.  But  I  am  a  strong  believer  in  him  and  in 
the  everlasting  righteousness,  which  is  all. you  can  think 
of  when  you  hear  him  preach.  Truly  it  is  the  very  spirit 
of  that  righteousness  in  himself  which  makes  me  adore 
Mr.  Leigh  so,  and  not  his  great  talents.  I  could  not  love 
any  man  merely  because  he  was  talented.  I'm  talented 
myself,"  cried  the  artist-girl.  "I  mean,  I  know  just 
what  a  poor  little  accidental  trifle  it  is  to  be  talented. 
To  be  born  with  some  knack  at  expressing  things  on 
canvas  or  in  books,  —  it  is  nothing.  One  may  be  very 
rich  in  those  gifts,  and  yet  live  a  low  and  ignoble  life. 
Oh  !  I  saw  that  when  I  was  in  Europe,  in  the  great  picture- 
galleries  there ;  that  there  were  evil  pictures,  as  well  as 
divine  ones  ;  pictures  that  it  took  a  world  of  talent  to 
paint,  and  yet  which  had  better  never  have  been  painted. 
It  was  as  if  my  eyes  were  opened  to  see  all  this  by  my 
acquaintance  with  Carroll  De  Lancey,  which  had  first 
brought  to  me  the  great  dreadful  discover}7,  that  this  was 
a  world  where  people  could  be  perfectly  beautiful,  and  yet 
have  no  morals.  It  was  such  a  shock  that  I  could  never 
be  dazzled  by  that  kind  of  beauty  any  more,  or  think  mere 
talents  and  brilliancy  any  thing  to  glory  in,  except  as  one 
would  be  -glad  to  have  any  gift  to  make  pictures  live,  or 
put  words  powerful,  so  as  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth. 

"I  never,  nei  er  imagined,"  the  impassioned  girl  went 
on,  "that  just  the  kind  of  seer  of  the  truth  whom  I 
should  fall  in  love  with  would  be  a  minister.  But  it  is 


832  A  REVEKEND   IDOL. 

BO  ;  arid  I  do  want  Mr.  Leigh  to  know  that  the  things  he 
spends  his  life  for,  the  things  which  have  to  do  with  char 
acter  and  conduct,  are  what  I,  too,  set  higher  than  any 
thing  else  in  this  world.  And  how  can  he  believe  that,  if 
he  thinks  I  have  been  of  light  conduct  myself?  Why,  I 
suppose  that  even  the  least  strict  people,  if  they  knew  of 
that  Southern  journey  of  mine,  would  cry  out>  'What  a 
shocking  thing !  That  great  preacher  is  going  to  marry 
a  wild  girl  who  played  bold  pranks  when  she  went  to 
school ! '  I  never  did,"  protested  Monny,  and  most  truly. 
44  It  is  not  a  true  piece  out  of  my  life :  1  mean  it  is  not 
like  any  of  the  rest  of  it,  —  my  running  away  to  New 
Orleans  in  boy's  clothes." 

44  No,  dear,"  replied  the  matron  soothingly,  as  the  g:  i 
drew  breath  for  a  moment  in  her  impulsive  outpourings  ; 
44  and  nobody  but  perfect  strangers  to  you,  who  never  even 
saw  your  face  in  their  lives,  would  call  you  a  bold  girl." 

k4  But  I  don't  like  even  perfect  strangers  to  be  able  to 
think  any  thing  amiss  of  Mr.  Leigh's  wife.  You  know  the 
least  ill  report  about  a  minister,  or  anybody  that  belongs 
to  him,  —  how  it  stains,  how  it  stains!"  cried  the  girl. 
"  And  I  cannot  bear  to  tell  even  Mr.  Leigh  himself  just 
this  one  kind  of  story.  I  mean,  I  should  not  be  afraid  to 
tell  him,  he  is  so  generous  to  me,  any  most  foolish,  foolish 
little  thing  I  had  ever  done  that  troubled  me,  if  only  it 
was  not  just  in  the  line  of  those  things,  —  the  things  which 
have  to  do  with  modesty.  You  know,  aunt  Persy,  in 
those  things  it  seems  unpardonable  for  a  woman  to  make 
even  a  mistake :  the  bare  shadow  of  wrong-doing  offenda 
like  the  substance." 

44  Yes,"  rejoined  the  Puritan  matron,  44the  world 
reckons,  and  rightly,  that,  between  the  women  who  do  bad 
things  and  the  women  who  are  given  to  dancing  on  the 
edges  of  badness,  there's  no  great  difference :  modesty 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  333 

is  alike  gone  from  both  of  'em.  So  I  don't  blame  you 
for  disliking  to  stand,  even  for  a  moment,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  man  you  are  to  marry,  as  among  the  careless-behaved 
girls." 

* '  It  will  look  as  if  I  must  have  been  such  a  girl  to  have 
travelled  a  thousand  miles  dressed  up  first  as  a  boy.  «nd 
then  pretending  to  be  a  wife,  when  I  was  not  married. 
()  aunt  Persy  !  how  will  such  behaviors  look?"  And  with 
this  word  so  often  and  distressfully  repeated,  the  girl 
ended  her  long  tale,  and,  leaning  her  round  arms  on  the 
table  before  her,  looked  into  the  elder  eyes  with  anxious 
longing  to  have  her  policy  of  concealment  seconded. 

It  should  be  remembered,  we  think,  when  women  are 
accused  of  being  the  concealing  sex,  that  frankness  about 
their  mistakes  is  generally  far  more  costly  to  them  than  to 
men,  not  only  because  of  woman's  greater  sensitiveness 
to  blame  from  those  she  loves,  but  because,  while  it  is 
sufficient,  as  a  rule,  for  a  man  to  be  right,  a  woman's  ways 
must  not  only  be  right,  they  must  look  right. 

The  Cape-Cod  widow,  being  a  woman,  shared  Money's 
own  sense  of  the  feminine  relation  to  mere  appearances ; 
and  she  answered  slowly,  "  I  don't  know  that  there's  any 
clear  call  of  duty  for  you  to  tell  Mr.  Leigh  just  now  all 
this  strange-sounding  story.  When  you're  a  married  wife, 
my  dear,  if  it  still  burdens  your  mind  as  something  you 
ought  to  tell  him,  'twould  come  a  great  deal  easier  to  you 
to  speak  to  him  about  it  then ;  but  till  then  I'd  let  it 
all  drop,  seeing  you  are  sure  that  your  heart  is  no  less 
whole  towards  the  man  you  are  going  to  marry,  because 
of  that  old  affair." 

"•Indeed  I  am.  I  love  Mr.  Leigh  not  less,  but  always 
more,  because  of  my  memory  of  Carroll  De  Lancey,  and 
the  shocking  disappointment  he  was  to  me." 

tk  I'v*  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  aunt  Persy  ;  "  and  so  there 


334  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

seems  to  be  no  reason  of  the  inward  state  why  you've  any 
thing  to  confess  to  Mr.  Leigh, — mere  outside  actions, 
that  you  were  led  into,  not  of  your  own  will,  and  which 
happened  so  long  ago,  I  see  no  reason  of  conscience  for 
you  to  speak  of  while  it  is  so  trying  to  your  feelings : 
and  YJ,  just  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  my  dear,  and  forget 
all  al/uut  it,"  concluded  aunt  Persy. 

It  will  be  seen  that  both  Monny  and  her  elderly  advisei 
had  all  the  feminine  reverence  for  truths,  but  not  the 
masculine  respect  for  facts.  Women,  in  general,  incline 
to  attach  a  prime  importance  to  intentions,  —  "the  inward 
state,"  —  as  aunt  Persy  had  it ;  while  men  do  to  the  out 
ward  act.  That  is,  something  in  the  whole  course  of 
men's  lives,  in  their  larger  dealing  with  the  world  of 
affairs,  seems  to  teach  them  far  more  forcibly  than  it  does 
women,  that  deeds  are  always  more  serious  than  intentions, 
for  this  momentous  reason,  that  any  thing  which  has  once 
taken  shape  in  action  is  always  likely  to  trail  some  con 
sequences  after  it,  which,  sooner  or  later,  will  turn  up  and 
have  to  be  met.  Notably  was  this  proved  true  in  poor 
Monny's  girlish  engagement,  and  all  the  tangled  adven 
tures  which  had  grown  out  of  it :  five  years  had  that  affair 
lain  dead,  and  no  living  soul  had  stirred  the  embers  there 
of  ;  yet  it  was  all  there,  ready  to  be  blown  up  into  a  most 
burning  scandal  by  an  enemy. 

This  tendency  of  women,  by  the  way,  to  exalt  the  spirit 
above  the  letter,  is  a  great  spiritualizing  force,  we  think, 
in  life  and  society,  —  a  help  to  that  perpetual  re-asserting 
of  the  vital  quality  of  things  which  the  world  always  needs. 
But,  applied  to  the  conduct  of  affairs,  would  not  this  femi 
nine  virtue  tend  to  become  a  peculiar  vice  of  disorder? 
Would  it  be  wholly  fanciful,  for  instance,  to  cite  Miss 
Kate  De  Lancey,  with  her  reasoning  that  all  means  were 
right  to  secure  Gen.  Warwick's  property  to  her  brother 


A   REVKKEND    IDOL.  835 

apd  herself,  because  in  his  heart  he  wanted  them  for  hig 
heiis,  —  to  cite  this  young  woman  aa  having  merely  carried 
out  to  some  daring  extreme  the  feminine  doctrine  of  the 
44  inwardness  of  things  "  ?  This  girl  and  her  brother  were 
two  of  those  uprooted  and  unguided  young  lives  which 
are  among  the  heaviest  damages  of  every  civil  war ;  but, 
of  the  two,  the  girl  had  grown  up  by  fur  the  least  damaged, 
by  far  the  superior  moral  being.  Yet  she  did,  without 
a  qualm  of  conscience,  what  nothing  would  have  induced 
her  wild  young  brother  to  do.  He  would  not  swear  a 
promise,  even  to  a  half-crazed  old  man,  which  he  had  no 
intention  of  performing.  Drunk  or  sober,  he  would  not 
trifle  with  his  word.  He  considered  it  the  characteristic 
of  low-born  knaves  to  lie ;  and,  whether  his  scruples  had 
their  root  in  pride  or  principle,  the  practical  result  was 
the  same,  since  his  integrity  was  quite  unshakable. 

His  sister  well  knew  this,  and  had  contrived  her  plot  ac 
cordingly,  making  it  impossible  for  him  to  undo  any  thing 
she  had  done,  save  by  exposing  a  lady,  and  she  his  own 
sister ;  that  is,  the  one  earthly  device  by  which  to  tie  up 
his  "pragmatic"  sense  of  honor,  her  ingenious  wits  had 
hit  on,  —  she  had  tied  it  up  with  her  own.  Now,  the  girl 
was  not  false-natured ;  but  she  had  none  of  her  brother's 
instinctive  sense  that  to  tamper  even  with  the  formulas  of 
bonds  and  contracts  strikes  at  law  and  order.  Indeed, 
that  law  and  order  have  been  hardly  won,  and  won  by 
fighting,  and  that,  if  lost,  they  must  be  fought  for  again 
and  by  one  sex,  —  this  feeling  seems  sufficiently  to  pene 
trate  the  whole  fighting  sex  to  make  a  man,  when  ne  has 
>my  conscience  at  all,  apt  to  show  some  conscience  in 
the  direction  of  those  principles  which  underlie  law  and 
order.  The  feminine  conscientiousness  is  prone  to  be 
keener  in  some  other  directions  ;  and  hence,  we  fancy, 
arises  that  charge  so  often  brought  by  men  against 


336  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

women,  of  being  lawless  in  any  thing  like  business  deal 
ings  ;  the  charge,  also,  that,  whenever  women  have  bad 
political  influence,  they  have  shown  a  political  immorality 
and  unscrupulousness  quite  beyond  that  of  men.  Now, 
that  women  are  the  less  scrupulous  sex  in  questions  of 
pure  right  —  what  they  apprehend  as  pure  right  —  certainly 
cannot  be  true :  they  made  the  most  heroic  of  martyrs  in 
the  da}7s  of  religious  martyrdom  :  they  have  always  been 
ready  to  die  for  love  or  religion  ;  that  is,  for  a  person  or 
a  principle,  —  any  principle  which  really  commanded  the 
allegiance  of  their  souls.  But  the  principles  on  which 
governments  are  carried  on  probably  very  seldom  do  so 
command  their  allegiance  ;  for  in  the  practical  world  pure 
right  never  obtains,  only  a  very  mixed  right  indeed.  And 
women  being  most  keenly  alive  to  all  this  alloy  of  im  - 
perfection  in  the  best  systems  for  establishing  human 
justice,  and  not  realizing,  as  men  do,  that  these  imperfect 
systems  are  yet  the  sole  barriers  against  chaos  and  mis 
rule,  probably  somewhat  naturally  incline  to  the  dangerous 
liberty  of  making  private  interpretations,  —  of  setting 
aside  codes  and  formulas  in  the  interest  of  some  higher 
truth  which  they  seek  to  establish  ;  to,  in  short,  what 
scoffers  would  call  the  politics  of  priests  and  women. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  be  a  scoffer  —  to  be  either  in  the 
ignoble  attitude  of  beings  who  undervalue  their  own  sex, 
or  the  ungenerous  attitude  of  those  who  undervalue  the 
other  —  to  see  that  there  may  be  some  grounds  for  the  con 
servative  apprehension,  that  in  politics  the  better  woman 
might  often  be  a  more  mischievous  agent  than  the  worse 
man. 


A  BEVEREND   IDOL.  887 


CHAPTER  XXH. 

"OKFORE  Mr.  Leigh's  return  to  the  Cape  at  this  time, 
.L/  he  took  occasion  to  present  himself  to  the  Slabwells 
to  ask  his  wife  in  due  form  of  her  guardians.  They 
were  finishing  the  out-of-town  season  with  a  few  quiet 
weeks  among  the  Berkshire  hills,  and  there  the  suitor 
called  on  them.  When  Mr.  Slab  well  had  somewhat  re 
covered  from  his  amaze  at  the  idea  of  Monny's  choosing 
a  clergyman,  he  found  points  in  the  proposed  alliance 
that  were  profoundly  satisfying.  Morals  and  money  lie 
regarded  as  the  two  indispensable  pins  of  a  human  exist- 
( nee  :  which  of  the  two  he  considered  the  most  essen  • 
tial,  it  might  be  difficult  to  say,  so  absolutely  fatal  a  lack 
he  found  in  the  life  that  wanted  either.  And  certainly  a 
man  who  was  at  once  a  minister,  and  the  possessor  of  an 
independent  fortune,  presented  such  a  conjunction  of 
these  two  prime  human  values  as  might  be  called  miracu 
lous.  Also,  the  devoted  husband  reflected  that  this  gen 
tleman  of  old  family  would  be  a  nephew-in-law  sure  to 
please  his  lady- wife.  Mr.  Slabwell's  own  respect  for  old 
families,  as  we  have  before  implied,  was  strictly  limited 
to  the  female  sex.  No  aristocrat  on  earth  could  surpass 
him  in  reverence  for  a  born  lady  ;  but  the  only  born  gen 
tleman  that  he  had  ever  stood  in  the  slightest  awe  of  was 
the  paternal  Mr.  "Rivers,  when  he  went  to  ask  him  for  the 
treasure  of  his  daughter.  And  as  for  Mr.  Leigh,  uncle 
John  considered  it  decidedly  that  gentleman's  place  at 
present  to  stand  in  awe  of  him.  And  so  he  did.  Seri- 


338  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

ously,  the  suitor's  claims  to  ask  for  such  a  rare  girl  as 
his  wife's  niece  were  so  thoroughly  examined  by  Mr. 
Slabwell  as  to  assure  Mr.  Leigh  that  his  darling  had  grown 
up  under  the  stoutest  of  masculine  protection  ;  and  alto 
gether  the  famous  clergyman,  and  the  undevout  but  very 
upright  Mr.  Slabwell,  acquired,  in  the  course  of  their 
transactions,  quite  a  strong  mutual  respect.  Aunt  Helen, 
who  was  really  of  Monny's  blood,  naturally  pleased  Mr. 
Leigh  still  more,  —  a  liking  which  was  fully  reciprocat 
ed  by  the  lady.  Thus  Mr.  Leigh  was  indorsed  by  the 
Slabwells ;  and  appreciating  on  his  own  side  all  that 
Monny's  guardians  were,  and  finding,  in  all  that  they 
were  not,  only  a  new  cause  of  tenderness  towards  the 
young  orphan  who  in  her  deepest  life  had  grown  so  alone 
and  apart,  he  returned  to  the  Cape  —  having  fulfilled  the 
other  engagements  which  had  taken  him  away  at  this 
time  —  at  the  end  of  a  three-days'  absence. 

He  came  by  that  same  early  evening-train  which  had 
brought  him  so  often  ;  and  a  high  tea  awaited  him,  which, 
this  time,  was  probably  a  truly  exalted  meal,  as  Monny 
graced  the  board,  with  no  hints  of  running  away ;  and, 
after  the  repast,  the  two  went  out  for  a  pleasure  in  which 
they  had  never  indulged  before,  —  a  walk  together  down 
to  the  beach. 

It  was  a  singularly  soft,  still  evening  for  this  region. 
The  wild  gales  which  blow  about  the  equinox  yet  waited ; 
and  even  by  the  ocean,  whose  opposite  bank  was  the 
shore  of  another  continent,  —  even  over  this  mighty 
thoroughfare  of  winds,  no  breeze  to-night  seemed  arriv 
ing.  Calm  sea  and  sky  were  all  alight  with  the  ineffable 
glory  of  a  September  moon  shining  at  'its  full  ;  and  the 
long  waves,  falling  farther  and  farther  away  with  the  out 
going  tide,  made  only  a  tranquil  cadence  to  the  varying 
voices  of  the  man  and  maiden  as  they  came  down  the 
high  bank  to  the  beach. 


A   BEVEREND   IDOL.  889 

4 'Here  seems  a  good  place  to  rest,"  said  Mr.  Leigh, 
leading  the  way  to  a  certain  spot  on  the  beach  which 
lured  him  to-night  with  an  especial  fancy.  It  was  a  great 
rcc ; ,  half  buried  in  the  sand  ;  and  Monny,  whose  memory 
at  the  moment  was  less  alert  than  his,  sat  down,  unaware 
of  any  thing  peculiar  in  the  place,  until  Mr.  Leigh 
added,  — 

44  From  this  rock  a  certain  young  lady,  inspirited  by  an 
extremely  early  breakfast  and  an  exciting  dog-race,  first 
gave  me  a  piece  of  her  remarkable  mind." 

44  Oh  !  "  cried  Monny  in  sudden  horrified  remembrance 
of  the  place  and  that  matutinal  dialogue  which  had  opened 
her  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Leigh.  "  What  did  you  think 
of  me  that  morning?  " 

44  I  thought,"  said  the  minister  conscientiously,  "that 
you  were  very  pretty  and  amusing." 

44 And  after?"  softly  asked  the  girl,  as  her  lover  sat 
down  on  the  rock  beside  her. 

44  That  you  were  always  more  and  more  pretty  and 
amusing." 

44  And  after?  "  still  repeated  the  wistful  voice. 

44 And  after,  ever  after,  O  my  darling!  what  have  I 
had  to  do  but  to  be  ashamed  and  ashamed  that  I  once 
thought  you  only  pretty  and  amusing?" 

41  Truly,  I  mean  to  be  more  than  that,"  whispered  the 
eager  girl.  "I  wish  to  be  all,  all,  that  I  should  be.  I 
have  thought  about  this  a  great  deal  since  you  have  been 
away.  I  have  been  reading  the  Prayer-Book,  —  over  in 
the  last  part,  the  Appendix,  I  mean,  where  there  are 
rules  for  the  ordering  of  priests  and  things.  I  found 
something  domestic  there,  an  order  about  '  the  manners 
of  them  that  specially  pertain  to  ministers,'  —  their  house 
holds.  I  am  charged  to  be  '  a  wholesome  example  and 
pattern,'"  quoted  Monny,  from  her  researches  in  the 
Prayer-Book  Appendix. 


340  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

44  No,  little  dissenter,"  laughed  the  minister  softly,  as 
the  rueful,  solemn  accent  with  which  Monny  made  her 
personal  application  of  the  Church  orders  was  bewitching 
in  his  ear :  ' '  you  are  not  quite  up  in  the  Prayer-Book  yet. 
The  charge  is  to  me.  I  am  to  make  you  a  wholesome 
example  and  pattern,  'as  much  as  in  me  lieth.'  The 
Church  is  very  reasonable,  you  see,  does  not  ask  any 
impossibilities,  only  some  decent  endeavor  on  the  part  of 
the  clergyman  to  make  his  wife  behave." 

He  spoke  playfully,  anxious  to  dispel  any  unduly  for 
midable  notion  of  the  responsibilities  of  a  minister's  wife 
which  might  be  oppressing  the  young  girl  beside  him  ;  but 
his  lightsome  answer  had  a  word  in  it  which  started  into 
such  painful  memory  her  New-Orleans  escapade,  Monny 
took  it  up  quickly,  — 

"  To  behave  has  always  been  my  wish  and  my  habit  — 
I  hope ;  that  is  —  usually.  Truly,  as  a  general  rule,  I 
do  not  think  I  have  been  given  to  wild  and  strange  con 
duct.  But  sometimes,  in  the  press  of  very  peculiar  cir 
cumstances,  one  may  do  things  not  like  one's  real  self,  — 
things  which  should  not  be  taken  as  true  samples  of  one's 
character.  Do  you  not  think  so?  That  morning  when 
1  talked  to  you  so  here  (I  have  forgotten  what  words  I 
said  ;  but  I  am  sure  they  were  dreadful  impudence) ,  you 
do  not  believe  it  had  been  my  usual  style  to  lecture 
strange  gentlemen  with  that  awful  boldness,  do  you?" 

"  Blessed  child  !  it  was  the  most  unmistakable  style  in 
all  the  world,  never,  never,  the  style  of  a  bold  girl,"  the 
lover  hastened  to  reply  to  the  tremulous  pleading  that 
was  in  Monny 's  voice.  ''Why,  darling,  I  had  a  fancy 
wO  come  here  to-night  just  because  I  loved  you  then,  and 
always,  alwa3rs  from  that  morning.  And  what  man  could 
ever  love  a  bold  girl  ?  ' '  said  the  simple  wooer. 

Again*a  word  which  struck  sharply  on  that  trembling 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  341 

inner  consciousness  of  the  girl.  She  did  not  speak  ;  but 
her  lover  discerned  by  the  moonlight  some  expression 
in  her  face  which  made  him  say  quickly,  "  Dearest,  what 
is  the  matter?  Let  us  go  away  from  this  place,  if  it  is 
painful  to  you." 

"  No,  I  Jike  this  place,"  said  Monny,  controlling  herself. 
"  It  is  kirger  out  of  doors,  it  is  very  large  to-night,  —  the 
sea  and  the  sky."  She  was  feeling  as  if  the  shining 
immensities  that  she  looked  on  might  widen  her  vision  of 
what  her  duty  was  as  to  telling  her  lover  that  secret ;  for 
the  calm  decision  not  to  tell  him,  which  she  had  been  able 
to  come  to  in  his  absence,  was  singularly  shaken  by  his 
return,  his  very  presence  so  moved  her  to  confidence. 
Still  she  trembled  to  speak. 

Meanwhile  the  lover  rejoined,  to  the  maiden's  last  words, 
41  Not  larger  than  my  confidence,  my  delight,  in  you, 
darling,  just  as  you  are  :  yonder  ocean  is  not  more  bound 
less  than  that  trust  and  joy.  This  doom  of  4  specially 
pertaining  to  a  minister,'  he  went  on,  improving  the 
phrase  which  Monny  had  fished  out  of  the  Prayer-Book  to 
put  the  arm  of  a  proprietor  (an  extremely  covetous  one) 
around  the  maid  as  he  spoke,  —  consider  it  not  so  deeply. 
You  must  not  fancy  that  the  change  in  your  name  is  going 
to  necessitate  any  mighty  change  otherwise." 

"Oh!  there  are  many  changes  I  shall  expect,  I  shall 
wish,  to  make,"  said  Monny,  readily  lured  away  from  the 
dis'^rbing  subject  she  was  secretly  struggling  with,  to 
talk  of  easier  things  connected  with  her  future  relations. 
"Balls  and  such  gayeties  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  give  up: 
for  I  was  getting  very  tired  of  them  even  before  —  before; 
I  knew  you,  Mr.  Leigh.  Not  that  I  thought  it  wicked  to 
dance  ;  for  I  have  not  been  brought  up  to  think  that  way, 
and  I  took  immense  pleasure  in  dancing  when  I  first  came 
out.  But  that  kind  of  pleasure  lasts  such  a  little  while  : 


B42  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 


once  you  have  been  through  the  whole  round  of 
fashionable  amusements,  it  is  much  the  same  thing  over 
again,  and  leaves  such  a  sense  of  emptiness  as  work  does 
not,  because  that  is  never  quite  the  same  thing  over  again. 
And  my  work,  too  :  I  shall  be  willing  to  change  all  that 
now  —  to  give  up  art.  '  ' 

"You  give  up  art?  What  an  inconceivable  idea!" 
ejaculated  the  astonished  man,  as  Monny  reached  this 
point  in  her  offerings. 

"  Surely,"  said  the  girl  earnestly,  "  all  the  daily  hours 
I  spend  now  in  painting  pictures  will  make  a  great  deal  of 
time  to  help  you.  Can  I  not  do  something  about  your 
sermons?  —  copy  them,  I  mean." 

44  Precious  martyr,"  laughed  Mr.  Leigh:  "there  are 
two  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  immolation  you  propose. 
First,  I  have  never  yet  kept  a  private  secretary  ;  second, 
when  I  do  come  to  that  need,  I  think  I  can  find  some 
proficient  in  the  art  of  penmanship  whom  I  can  sacrifice 
to  my  sermons  at  a  less  monstrous  waste  and  misuse  than 
there  would  be  in  making  a  mere  scribe  of  a  being  whom 
Heaven  made  an  artist,  and  who  has  done  her  heroic  best 
to  improve  the  gift  of  Heaven.  Ana,"  he  continued 
seriously,  "  it  has  seemed  possible  to  me,  it  has  been  my 
hope,  that,  in  the  life  which  you  have  promised  to  live  with 
me,  there  might,  in  the  long-run,  be  fewer  obstructions  to 
your  study  of  art  —  at  least,  not  more  —  than  those  which 
have  been  in  your  past  life,  and  which  you  have  so  mar 
vellously  overcome.  I  certainly  know  women  of  society 
whose  homes  are  in  nowise  neglected,  and  who  yet  keep 
up  such  a  constant  round  of  what  may  be  called  outside 
duties  and  pleasures  as  must  consume  a  very  large  part  of 
every  day.  And  since  Ana  cares  so  little  for  the  pleas 
ures  of  these  ladies,  for  '  the  sugar-plums,  and  cat's- 
cradles,  Compliments,  cards,  and  custard  which  rack  the 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  343 

wit  of  all  society  ; '  and  since  she  is  certainly  excused  from 
their  duties,  having  been  born  to  this  especial  duty  of  her 
own  of  art,  —  I  cannot  see  why  this  great  desideratum  of 
time  for  her  pursuits  may  not,  one  year  with  another,  be 
secured  to  her.  It  surely  cannot  be  a  wild  calculation  to 
hope  for  this,  since  I  reckon,  you  see,  quite  from  the 
standard  of  the  average  woman,  even  the  fashionable 
variety  of  her  who  is  not  usually  considered  the  most 
energetic  of  her  sex.  And  have  I  not  seen  how  infinitely 
more  than  the  average  energy  has  one  young  girl  in  gath 
ering  up  the  hours  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  have  always  had  to  gather  them  up  in  order  to 
do  any  thing  at  all  in  art ;  especially  since  I  have  been  a 
young  lady,  —  after  I  left  school  and  came  out,  I  mean. 
I  had  supposed  that  my  time  was  going  to  be  wholly  my 
own  then  ;  and  I  was  very  much  disappointed  and  troubled 
to  find  that  it  was  less  my  own  than  ever  before  in  my 
life :  all  the  day  seemed  to  be  so  frittered  away,  and 
utterly  spoilt  for  work,  by  mere  social  demands.  And 
although,  at  last,  I  succeeded  in  reserving  to  myself  some 
regular  morning  hours  to  paint  in,  I  had  to  do  it  by 
dropping  the  whole  business  of  making  and  receiving 
formal  calls,  and  ignoring  so  many  other  observances  of 
society  as  made  me,  I  knew,  an  anxiety  to  aunt  Helen. 
And  then  the  thought  that  I  was  discomforting  her  would 
be  such  a  weight  on  my  feelings,  that  often,  when  I  shut 
myself  up  to  paint,  I  could  hardly  do  any  thing  at  all ;  for 
you  know  you  need  to  have  your  heart  at  ease  before  you 
can  put  your  mind  well  to  your  work,"  said  soft-hearted 
Monny.  u  And  I  tell  you  all  this,  not  to  complain  of  the 
home  which  has  been  my  only  home  for  so  long,"  contin 
ued  the  orphan  ;  "for  aunt  Helen  has  always  been  kind  to 
me,  and  most  careful  for  my  good  (according  to  her  own 
ideas) ,  and  uncle  John  as  generous  as  possible,  and  always 


344  A  KEVEREND  IDOL. 

interceding  for  me  to  have  my  own  way.  But  what  I 
wanted  to  say  was,  that  no  hinderances  which  I  could  have 
in  —  in  a  new  home,  would  be  any  hinderance  to  me  at  all, 
where  I  had  the  strange  new  help  of  somebody  who  did 
not  merely  tolerate  my  pursuits,  as  my  guardians  have 
done,  but  who  really  believed  in  and  strongly  appro vod 
of  them.  Oh,  if  you  truly  wish  for  me  to  keep  on  in  art, 
I  cannot  think  what  kind  of  heaven  it  would  be  to  work 
with  such  a  help  as  that  always !"  (Tender  demonstra 
tions  from  the  lover  here  somewhat  interrupt  the  outflow 
of  girlish  confidences.  It  is  resumed,  however,  with 
another  anxious  inquiry  from  the  maiden) ,  — 

"And  will  not  the  people  —  your  parish,  dislike  my 
being  an  artist?  " 

.  "Dislike  your  genius! — I  should  think  not,"  replied 
the  lover  proudly.  "  Why,  when  once  you  have  exhibited 
your  pictures,  I  expect  to  be  known  thereafter  only  as  the 
husband  of  Mrs.  Leigh.  As  the  dearest  earthly  ambition 
I  have  ever  had  has  been  to  wear  that  title,  I  shall  natu 
rally  like  to  hear  it  repeated  as  often  as  possible." 

"  Seriously,"  returned  the  girl  to  these  flatteries  of  the 
famous  man,  to  whose  face  her  own  was  so  wistfully  up 
turned,  "there  will  be  an  idea,  you  know,  that  an  artist 
will  be  both  undomestic,  and  inefficient  in  parish  duties." 

"  Seriously,  my  dear  child,  who  on  earth  will  the  do 
mestic  business  concern  save  our  two  selves  ?  And  even 
the  most  inexperienced  mortal  can  discern  one  thing  about 
this  great  domestic  question  ;  viz.,  that  it  is  very  largely 
indeed  a  question  of  finance.  I  mean  that  it  is  perfectly 
idle  to  say  that  the  mistress  of  a  house  cannot  safely  and 
rightly  delegate  an  immense  proportion  of  all  her  cares,  if 
she  has  no  necessity  to  count  the  money-cost  of  thus  re 
lieving  herself.  Thanks  to  my  fathers,  money-necessities, 
which  hamper  all  their  days  so  many  better  men,  have  not 


A  EEVEREND   IDOL.  345 

touched  my  life  :  I  trust  they  may  never  come  near  yours. 
Fortune  does  permit  us,  my  dear,  to  arrange  our  estab 
lishment  in  the  way  most  favorable  to  the  ends  we  both 
value  most,  and  still  to  have  something  to  spare  for 
others.  We  can  the  more  readily  provide  for  all  this, 
because  neither  of  us  care  for  great  show  and  maguiji- 
cenee." 

"  Indeed  I  do  not :  indeed  I  would  like  to  be  poor  with 
you,  Mr.  Leigh,  to  live  on  very,  very  small  means  indeed. 
You  would  see  what  a  manager  I  would  develop  into 
then,"  said  Monny,  not  without  some  warrant  for  this 
little  boast.  u  I  could  dress  —  why,  I  could  dress  entirely 
out  of  your  old  surplices,"  exclaimed  the  girl  merrily. 
44  The  white  robes  and  the  black  ones,  they  would  keep 
me  in  toilets  all  the  year  round,  and  such  riches  of  yards 
as  would  be  in  them  for  trains!  With  those  mighty 
remnants  to  fall  back  on  for  clothes,  I  would  so  fix  myself 
out  as  to  be  a  perfect  credit  to  you  on  the  smallest 
of  incomes.  How  big  do  you  look  in  your  preaching 
gowns?"  asked  Monny,  who  had  never  yet  seen  her 
gigantic  lover  magnified  by  those  flowing  habiliments,  her 
light  way  of  referring  to  which  must  be  pardoned  to 
her  Puritan  blood  :  she  was  not  to  the  manner  born. 

This  churchman's  sense  of  the  seriousness  of  his  call 
ing  did  not  reside  in  his  gown  ;  and  he  met  the  girl's  little 
sally  with  the  laughing  reply,  44  Big  enough,  I  hope,  to 
suggest  to  the  young  person  who  was  referring  just  now, 
in  rather  an  alarming  tone,  to  her  parish  duties,  that  I  may 
not  stand  too  ambitious  encroachments  on  what  I  had 
fancied  to  be  my  own  peculiar  sphere. 

u  Seriously  again,  Ana,  this  is  a  reasonable  world,  much 
more  reasonable,  on  the  whole,  than  it  has  the  credit  of 
being.  When  it  sees  man  or  woman  truly  devoted  and 
effective  in  any  one  work,  it  does  not  ask  that  such  a 


346  A  KEVEKEND   IDOL. 

worker  shall  equally  attend  to  all  other  works.  My  par 
ish  has,  I  hope,  the  average  rationality :  be  altogether 
sure,  my  darling,  that  you  can  trust  it  never  to  ask  a  girl 
whose  patient,  wonderful  young  years  have  wrought  what 
yours  have  to  be  any  more  'efficient '  than  she  is." 

";  Of  course,  I  shall  be  most  glad  to  help  in  the  church 
charities,  —  looking  after  the  poor,  —  I  have  always  tried 
to  do  that  a  little." 

"  Have  I  not  seen  it?  "  said  the  minister. 

4 '  And  any  thing  in  this  world  that  I  can  do  to  be  use 
ful  to  you,  if  they  are  things  that  I  have  not  cared  about 
before,  I  shall  care  for  now.  I  have  read,"  Monny  went 
on  with  naive  earnestness,  u  that  the  wives  of  great  men 
—  those  of  them  who  were  fortunate  in  their  wives  — 
enabled  the  men  to  be  much  greater  by  supplementing  all 
their  labors,  sparing  them  the  drudgery  of  their  tasks ; 
that  even  the  wives  of  scientific  men  have  learned  to  be 
thus  helpful.  It  seems  there  have  been  many  of  these 
women.  I  was  reading  this  summer  about  Dr.  Priestley, 
who  discovered  dephlogisticated  air,  I  believe  it  was,  — 
made  a  great  many  investigations  in  airs,  the  reviewer 
said,  which  were  of  immense  importance  to  science.  And 
he  said  that  Dr.  Priestley  was  able  to  accomplish  such 
great  things  because  he  had  a  remarkably  capable  wife, 
who  relieved  him  from  all  earthly  cares.  And  I  read,  too, 
that  it  was  through  another  devoted  wife  that  animal  mag 
netism  was  discovered ;  that  some  scientific  man,  experi 
menting  one  day  with  a  live  frog,  happened  to  put  him 
down  near  something  that  was  electrized,  and  the  watch 
ful  wife  observed  how  its  leg  twitched  —  poor  little  frog  !  " 
Mouny  exclaimed  with  involuntary  lament,  in  the  midst  of 
her  gravely-delivered  scraps  of  biography. 

11 1  think  so  !  "  —  Mr.  Leigh  laughed  aloud  at  the  abrupt 
termination  of  Monny's  solemn  quotations,  —  "  a  pair  of 


A  REVEKEXD   IDOL.  847 

them  to  torment  him,  decidedly  a  family  of  cnielists  for 
Bergh  to  look  after ! 

4 'It  is  conclusively  settled  now,"  declared  the  lover, 
44  that  I  am  not  a  great  man  ;  for  I  am  everlastingly  cer 
tain  that  I  do  not  want  a  supplementary  wife.  Mrs. 
Priestley  especially,  I  am  bound  as  a  churchman  to  object 
to.  Some  of  her  husband's  mischievous  activity  might 
hare  been  curtailed,  perhaps,  if  she  had  been  a  less  capa 
ble  woman.  The  frogman's  wife  I  will  not  pronounce 
on  ;  but  surely  I  cannot  indorse  a  woman  who  contributed 
to  the  enlargement  of  such  a  schismatic  as  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Priestley." 

44  Reverend?  —  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  a  minister," 
mui  mured  Monny. 

"Certainly,  he  diffused  rather  more  dephlogisticated 
air  in  the  domain  of  theology  than  anywhere  else,"  said 
Mr.  Leigh. 

4t  I  remember  now,"  rejoined  the  girl,  4'that  he  was 
some  kind  of  religious  come-outer,  to  begin  with.  But  I 
read  about  him  in  4  The  Popular  Science  Monthly ; '  and 
all  that  remained  in  my  mind  was  his  scientific  discoveries, 
and  how  the  reviewer  extolled  Mrs.  Priestley  as  a  model 
wife.  He  said  that  all  efforts  of  her  own  would  undoubt 
edly  have  been  miserably  weak  and  worthless,  if  she  had 
aspired  to  any  original  research,  like  the  vainly  ambitious 
women  of  to-day  ;  whereas,  by  making  herself  an  adjunct 
to  her  husband's  labors,  she  was  instrumental  in  the  ac 
complishing  of  truly  great  things.  And  I  remember  the 
reviewer  wound  up  by  saying,  '  Honor  to  the  wives  of  that 
type,'  in  away  which  so  seemed  to  say,  4  Dishonor  to  those 
who  attempt  to  do  any  thing  of  themselves,'  it  discour 
aged  me  dreadfully  about  painting  pictures." 

44  Dear  child,"  replied  the  lover,  who  had  listened,  fas 
cinated  by  the  mere  music  of  the  pensive  tone  in  which 


348  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Monny  bewailed  herself  over  "  The  Popular  Science 
Monthly,"  "old  Dr.  Johnson  ought  to  be  forever  alive  to 
say  to  every  mortal  man  of  us,  your  afflicting  reviewer 
with  the  rest,  '  My  dear  sir,  endeavor  to  clear  your  mind 
of  cant.'  We  must  all  live  by  cant  sometimes,  the 
shallow  generality,  the  idle  hearsay,  —  we  must  follow 
these  in  many  perplexed  things  until  the  true  light  dawn. 
But  when  that  comes,  when  a  man  has  had  the  illumina 
tion  which  I  have  had  in  you,  my  wonderful  Ana,  he  must 
be  an  extraordinary  bigot  and  blockhead  to  have  any  ear 
for  the  old  cant  afterwards.  As  to  the  general  subject 
of  woman's  rights,  I  suspect  there  is  plenty  of  cant  on 
both  sides  of  it :  my  tastes,  I  suppose,  have  been  conserva 
tive  on  the  general  question.  But  it  is  a  question  that  I 
do  not  pretend  to  have  studied,  and  I  see  no  need  to  study 
it  now  —  to  settle  any  general  questions  in  order  to  decidi 
that  it  is  your  particular  right  to  be  an  artist." 

"  I  know,  I  know  that  you  will  be  most  generous  to  me 
if  I  go  on  in  art ;  and  it  has  been  very  good  of  you  to  jest 
about  the  useful  wives,  and  say  that  you  will  be  content  if 
I  am  not  one  of  them.  But  I  want  to  be  one  of  them,  — 
to  be  the  very,  very  average  woman  indeed,  in  the  sense 
of  living  all  my  life  for  your  sake,"  said  the  girl,  voicing 
a  passion  which  was  so  infinitely  deeper  in  her  than  the 
artist's,  no  reviewers  were  needed  to  stimulate  it.  "If  I 
could  be  the  greatest  artist  that  ever  was,  it  would  never 
console  me,  if  I  thought  that  I  missed  thereby  the  chance 
of  lightening  }Tour  special  burdens  a  little  :  it  is  something 
I  cannot  bear  to  miss,  —  the  hope  of  being  some  near  and 
personal  help  to  you  which  nobody  else  is." 

"My  own  beloved,"  said  the  man  solemnly,  for  the 
giii's  words  had  touched  deep  chords,  "really  to  bear 
another's  burden  is  not  in  our  mortal  power.  But  to  keep 
another  happy  and  in  good  heart  while  he  bears  his  burden 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  349 

himself,  that  is  bve's  gift,  and  it  is  the  divinest  gift  on 
earth.  That  gift,  that  help,  you  are  to  me  in  a  degree 
beyond  all  words  to  utter,  —  a  help  indeed  which  none 
other  is,  or  ever  was,  or  I  had  imagined  ever  could  be. 

44  And  see  now,"  he  went  on  more  lightly,  "  what  cant 
beyond  all  other  cants  it  is  to  talk  of  the  model  wife  as 
if  she  were  some  stereotype  pattern,  warranted  to  suit  the 
universal  man ;  when  I,  for  instance,  should  fiM  your 
reviewer's  model  wife,  whose  husband  must  provide  all 
her  work  or  her  play,  the  most  formidable  lady  that  I 
could  possibly  take  on  my  hands.  For  there  are  no  frogs 
to  watch  in  my  study  ;  and  how  could  I  supply  her  with 
my  'drudgeries,'  when  I  have  always  been  mysteriously 
unable  to  do  any  work  well,  if  I  tried  to  cut  out  and 
shirk  the  drudgeries  thereof?  And,  perhaps  because  I 
have  lived  too  long  alone,  I  must  confess  that  I  should 
not  want  the  most  admirable  supplementary  lady  in  the 
world  to  be  talking  to  me,  even  about  the  Sunday  schools 
and  the  charities,  at  all  times  and  seasons.  Behold  what  a 
miserably  unfit  husband  I  should  be  for  the  perfect  wife  ! 
But  the  imperfect  one,  the  abnormal  woman,  the  genius," 
he  said  teasingly,  "  I  have  the  singularity  to  think  that  I 
might  possibly  manage  with  her.  When  she  was  revealed 
to  me  one  marvellous  morning,  I  began  to  whisper  to 
myself,  4 1  could  forage  for  this  mate.  Some  of  its  natu 
ral  wants  are  known  to  me.  It  were  good  for  it  to  have 
its  bread  and  water  sure,  and  with  no  turmoil  of  their 
getting ;  and  for  that  Heaven  has  enabled  me  to  provide. 
It  would  choose  regular  habits  :  so  do  I.  It  will  wish  to 
spend  ncuch  solitary  time  at  its  work  ;  rryn.  wlK  i  1  shut 
myself  up  alone  to  study,  it  will  not  feel  itself  wronged 
and  neglected.  Ah,  this  bird  of  the  empyrean,'  thought 
I,  *  rare  and  strange  as  it  is,  if  1  could  win  it  to  be  my 
home-bird,  there  would  be  this  enormous  basis  of  hope 


350  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

for  future  happiness,  that  so  many  of  its  wants  and  waya 
are  in  my  line  of  wants  and  ways.  This  unnatural  girl, 
with  a  pursuit  of  her  own,'  I  said,  'is  the  one  feminine 
being  who  would  not  be  wholly  an  enigma  to  me.'  ' 

Thus  spoke  the  man  to  whom  a  being  who  should  fill 
all  life's  large  spaces  of  thought  and  endeavor  with  only 
the  fondnesses  of  the  heart,  however  fond,  with  the  mere 
ebb  and  flow  of  emotion,  however  pure,  —  to  whom  such 
a  being,  let  it  be  confessed  of  Kenyon  Leigh,  would  have 
been,  however  fascinating  for  a  little  time,  at  last  utterly 
wearisome  and  exhausting. 

"  O  my  darling,  my  darling  !  "  protested  the  lover  anew, 
"I  always  loved  you,  alwa}Ts  wanted  you  for  my  wife: 
not  to  long  for  you  was  impossible.  But  when  I  thought 
you  were  what  these  doctrinaires  of  yours  would  call 
the  normal  young  maiden,  in  the  sense  of  your  having  no 
special  occupation  but  —  to  be  charming  (although  Heaven 
knows  you  were  too  charming  to  me  for  me  to  pass  any 
severe  criticisms  on  your  office  in  the  world) ,  was  I  not 
forced  to  think  that  such  powers  of  charming  must  needs 
pine  for  a  gayer  atmosphere  than  was  permitted  to  a 
work-bound  life  like  mine  ?  And  now,  my  own  Ana,  that 
I  know  you  as  you  really  are,  all  the  deep  sources  from 
which  your  young  brightness  was  fed,  do  you  ask  if  I  am 
content  with  you,  glad  in  your  great  gifts,  in  the  expecta 
tion  that  you  will  cultivate  them  through  life?  Dearest, 
believe  me,  you  are  all  in  all  so  absolutely  what  I  would 
have  you,  that  if  I  had  ever  dared  to  dream  of  such  a 
possible  wife,  of  a  joy  so  perfect  in  this  world  of  ours 
where  perfect  joys  are  so  seldom  found,  —  great  satisfac 
tions  for  great  desires,  — I  should  have  thought  myself  aa 
wild  as  Greek  Endymion,  maddening  for  the  moon." 

Solemnly,  as  all  deep  feeling  speaks,  these  words  were 
spoken  ;  and  it  would  seem  that  they  might  quiet  even  the 


A   REVEKEND   IDOL.  351 

fluttering  young  heart  that  heard  them  with  an  eternal 
re-assurance. 

Apparently  it  was  so  for  a  little.  When  the  thrilling 
silence  which  held  the  lovers  for  a  moment  was  again 
broken,  it  was  by  the  voice  of  the  girl,  saying  in  a  tone 
low  and  gravely  sweet,  — 

4t>  I  do  believe  you,  Mr.  Leigh,  that  you  wish  me  to  go 
on  with  my  work.  And  be  very  sure  indeed,"  continued 
the  earnest  maiden,  "  that  mine  is  not  a  kind  of  work 
that  will  ever  in  the  least  have  to  be  considered  beside 
yours,  —  with  reference  to  interruptions,  I  mean.  Inter 
ruptions  will  be  comparatively  of  no  importance  to  me, 
because,  if  I  lose  one  day,  I  can  paint  another ;  whereas 
I  understand  very  well  that  a  man's  work  can  never  be 
put  off  in  that  way.  Because  almost  all  the  work  that 
men  are  engaged  in  —  men  who  are  in  what  is  called  active 
life  —  has  this  necessity,  that  it  must  absolutely  be  done 
within  a  fixed  time :  when  the  hour  strikes,  the  minister 
must  be  ready  with  his  sermon,  the  lawyer  with  his  brief, 
and  so  on.  That  is  one  reason  why  the  women 's-rights 
people  seem  to  me  very  wild  indeed  when  they  urge  that 
women  can  practise  professions  just  as  men  do.  For  of 
course  it  would  be  a  very  strange  kind  of  home,  it  would 
be  no  home  at  all,  where  both  the  master  and  the  mistress 
were  driven  by  avocations  that  could  not  be  interrupted. 
It  is  certain,  that,  if  one  had  this  necessity  to  have  his 
working- time  kept  sacred,  there  must  be  the  other  to 
guard  it." 

The  man  who  was  to  be  "  guarded  "  listened  in  charmed 
silence  to  all  this  grave  discoursing  of  Miss  Moimy.  The 
way  in -which  this  very  emotional  and  imaginative  girl  yet 
betrayed  her  descent  from  the  much-arguing  Puritans  by 
her  earnestness  10  be  logically  right  on  the  most  every-day 
matters,  this  little  debating  fashion  of  Monny's  speech, 


352  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

peipetually  fascinated  Mr.  Leigh,  albeit  there  was  often  a 
touch  of  amusement  in  the  mood  with  which  he  listened. 
Just  now  he  smiled  only  an  inward  smile  as  he  looked 
down  on  his  young  protector  to  ask  when  and  where  she 
had  made  such  an  exhaustive  study  of  the  whole  duty  of 
woman. 

"•This  summer/'  she  answered  with  all  seriousness, 
•'  1  have  read  a  good  deal  about  woman's  sphere.  Dr. 
Priestley  seemed  to  be  in  the  magazines  apropos  of  some 
celebration.  The  centennial  of  his  birth  has  come  round 
lately,  has  it  not?" 

"  That  came  round,  my  dear,  between  forty  and  fifty 
years  ago,"  replied  Mr.  Leigh.  "But  there  has  been  a 
statue  erected  to  him  in  England  lately :  that  is  what  you 
have  seen  notices  of." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Monny,  who  had  taken  no  pro 
found  interest  in  Dr.  Priestley  or  his  birthdays,  save  as 
his  domestic  life  had  furnished  a  text  for  preachment* 
on  the  model  woman.  "So  many  centennials  are  being 
celebrated  just  now,"  she  added,  half  in  excuse  of  her 
inattentive  memory, — "America's  next  year,  and  this 
year  Michael  Angelo's  fourth  centennial." 

It  was  the  merest  chance  which  had  brought  the  great 
sculptor's  name  to  Monny 's  lips  ;  but  it  was  a  chance 
fated  to  give  a  particular  turn  to  her  thoughts.  Michael 
Angelo  had  been  an  especial  god  with  this  artist-girl. 
She  adored  his  character  as  well  as  his  genius.  And 
now,  as  his  name  dropped  accidentally  from  her  lips,  it 
crossed  her  young  fancy  that  there  was  some  likeness 
between  the  great  master  who  had  so  long  dominated  her 
ideal  woild  and  the  man  beside  her,  although  the  latter 
had  never  handled  any  implements  of  the  former's  art. 
Men  are  allied  quite  as  much  through  the  greatness  of 
their  qualities  as  through  any  similarity  of  their  mere 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  353 

talents ;  and  the  spirit,  at  once  fiery  and  austere,  of  the 
great  sculptor,  writing  on  his  immortal  statue,  "  Sweet  is 
sleep,  and  sweeter  yet  is  it  to  be  of  stone  while  misery 
and  wrong  endure," — this  spirit,  in  its  strong  hatred  of 
the  evil,  and  passion  for  the  good,  might  well  seem  repro 
duced  in  Keuyon  Leigh  to  the  girl  who  loved  him.  Cer 
tain  it  was  that  at  this  moment  her  fond  imagination 
spanned  the  centuries  to  compare  her  lover  to  the  immor 
tal  artist,  so  many  of  whose  words  are  as  memorable  as 
his  statues.  And  Monny's  thoughts  eould  not  make  this 
comparison  to-night  without  remembering  Michael  An- 
gelo's  love  for  Vittoria  Colouna.  Nor  could  she  recall 
just  now  the  Marchioness  of  Peseara,  the  mature,  gifted 
woman,  the  widow,  lovely  in  her  ripe  years,  without 
thinking  of  —  Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt.  Yes,  there  flew  back 
to  her  now  on  the  wings  of  all  these  wandering  fancies 
her  first  impression  of  that  beautiful  woman  as  she  stood 
beside  Mr.  Leigh  in  the  church-entry,  her  sense  of  the 
wondrous  way  in  which  the  pair  graced  each  other.  Now, 
as  then,  any  jealous  thought  was  impossible  to  her  of  the 
widow.  But  her  original  feeling  about  Mrs.  .Van  Cort- 
landt  as  the  resplendent  type  of  all  the  fair  women  Mr. 
Leigh  had  known  before  herself,  came  back  to  her  now 
with  such  a  renewal  of  the  thrilling  wonder  that  she  could 
be  preferred  to  such,  she  lifted  her  face  to  her  lover's, 
with  the  bashful,  slow-dropping- words,  "Have  you  never 
• —  cared  for  —  loved  —  any  woman  before  me  ?  " 

"Never!"  The  answer  came  so  full  and  strong,  the 
girl  forgot  every  thing  else  to  respond,  "  Nor  I.  I  have 
never  truly  cared  for  any  man  in  this  world  before.  Little 
fancies  —  I  have  had  those  ;  but  they  are  not  love  —  are 
not  worthy  to  be  called  so.  Are  they  ?  "  pleaded  the  girl 
with  a  passionate  eagerness  which  overbore  all  timidity ; 
for  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  suddenly  dropped  into  the 


354  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

sea,  and  the  image  which  rose  on  "Monny  now  was  Carroll 
De  Lancey. 

''Never,  never!  "  reiterated  the  man  with  a  fervor  of 
emphasis,  which,  on  his  side  too,  gathered  force  from  a 
hidden  thought ;  for  he  remembered  at  this  moment  his 
own  "little  fancy"  for  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  Here, 
then,  were  two  most  truthful  beings,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes,  speaking,  one  would  verily  say,  heart  to 
Iieart,  who  were  yet  keeping  back  a  secret  each  from  the 
other,  —  a  secret  of  the  same  nature.  There  was  this 
difference  between  them,  however,  that  the  man  had  not 
the  slightest  feeling  that  his  secret  was  any  thing  that  he 
ought  to  speak  of.  He  would  have  considered  himself 
no  gentleman  if  he  had  mentioned  to  any  being  on  earth, 
even  the  nearest  and  the  dearest,  any  such  inchoate, 
never-fulfilled  views  towards  a  lady  as  had  been  his 
regarding  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  The  girl,  on  the  other 
hand,  suffered  from  the  fluctuating  conviction  that  she 
ought  to  confess.  The  words  she  had  said,  however,  had 
been  as  pure  of  all  conscious  intent  to  falsify,  or  even 
evade  the  truth,  as  the  man's  had.  She  scarcely  knew 
what  she  said;  for  she  had  spoken  from  an  impulse  to 
quiet  within,  not  to  disguise  without,  that  resurgent  trou 
ble,  which,  whether  her  wandering  thoughts  strayed  to 
woman's  sphere  or  to  Michael  Augelo,  lay  in  wait  to  seize 
her. 

It  is  possible  that  this  trouble  might  yet  have  found 
some  outlet  in  speech  to  her  lover,  as  she  sat  beside  him 
on  the  moonlit  shore,  had  not  a  familiar  sound  just  here 
broke  in  upon  all  conversation.  It  was  the  bark  of  Duke 
George  coming  rapidly  nearer,  and  soon  echoing  along 
the  edge  of  the  elm0  above  their  heads. 

"  Somebody  must  be  with  him.  There  must  be  some 
thing  wanted  at  the  house,"  said  Monny,  starting  up; 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  355 

and  as  the  dog  presently  came  plunging  down  the  bank, 
ecstatic  at  finding  the  truants,  Mr.  Leigh's  "Halloo!" 
soon  brought  a  responsive  "Hi!"  from  Susannah;  and 
in  a  moment  or  two  more  her  dusky  figure  showed,  out 
lined  against  the  sky,  at  the  top  of  the  bank. 

"  Please,  your  Honor,"  she  cried,  as  Mr.  Leigh  took  a 
few  strides  upward  to  hear  her  message,  "de  missis  hab 
sent  me  to  say  dat  word  hab  jess  come  to  de  house  dat 
poor  Skipper  Benway  is  gwine  fast.  An'  his  wife,  hear- 
in'  dat  your  Honor  hab  come  home,  she  send  word  to 
know  if  it  be  too  much  trouble  for  your  Honor  to  come 
over  and  speak  wid  de  dyin'  man  once  more,  at  de  last." 

The  minister  could  make  but  one  answer  to  this,  and 
forthwith  he  led  Monny  up  the  bank.  "When  they  had 
reached  its  top,  the  girl  said,  "You  will  get  there  much 
quicker,  you  know,  by  walking  straight  to  the  village, 
across  the  sand-hills ;  and  I  will  go  home  with  Susannah 
and  Duke  George." 

Thus,  therefore,  they  parted,  Monny  going  home  with 
the  black  woman,  and  Mr.  Leigh  striking  directly  across 
the  waste  for  the  cottage  to  which  he  had  been  sum 
moned. 


356  A  REVEKEUD  IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XXIH. 

MRS.  VAN  CORTLANDT  was  at  the  cottage  before 
him,  making  a  charitable  call,  in  prophetic  antici 
pation  o"f  seeing  Mr.  Leigh,  having  learned  his  habit  of 
visiting  there.  She  had  brought  some  flowers  with  her, 
ordered  express  from  a  Boston  greenhouse.  The  door 
of  the  sick-room  stood  open  into  the  little  kitchen,  in 
which  latter  room  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  now  sat,  making  a 
figure  which  an  artist  might  have  painted  for  a  picture  of 
high-born  beauty  ministering  to  the  lowly.  But  in  fact 
the  lady  was  a  great  embarrassment  to  the  lowly.  The 
very  flowers  she  had  brought,  with  their  exotic  richness 
and  professionally  elaborate  arrangement,  suggested  fu 
neral  decorations  to  poor  Mrs.  Benway  ;  and  she  dreaded 
to  have  the  eyes  of  her  dying  husband  turn  on  them,  lest 
they  should  seem  to  him  an  unkind  anticipation  of  his 
burial.  Moreover,  one  of  those  painful  contrasts  which 
cannot  be  softened  in  the  narrow  quarters  of  the  poor  was 
present  in  a  frolicsome  two-years-old  baby,  which,  having 
had  its  long  nap  indiscreetly  late  in  the  day,  was  running 
about  now  with  an  ecstatic  sense  of  being  out  of  bed  at 
candlelight,  and  of  having  much  sleep  laid  up  for  many 
hours.  The  exhilarated  baby,  in  fact,  had  been  so  bor 
rowed  and  petted  by  the  neighbors  during  the  long  sick 
ness  in  the  house,  as  to  have  become  a  rather  demoralized 
baby  in  other  ways  beside  its  sleeping  habits.  Thus  it 
would  keep  informing  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  that  she  was 
making  too  long  a  call,  by  striking  at  her  with  hostile 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  357 

little  hands,  and  ordering  her  to  "  dow  away,  dow  away  !  " 
with  all  its  infant  might.  That  the  grand  lady  should  SP«? 
her  child  misbehave  thus  while  the  parent  life  was  ebbing 
added  some  touch  of  maternal  mortification  to  the  poor 
wife's  sharp  sorrow  ;  and  altogether  Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt 
was  not  a  consoler. 

All  the  difference  which  there  is  between  the  truly  great 
personality  and  the  merely  imposing  one  was  felt  when 
Mr.  Leigh  came  in.  Not  humiliation,  but  help,  was  in  his 
very  presence :  he  even  relieved,  as  it  chanced,  poor  Mrs. 
Bemvay's  soul  of  those  deathly  flowers  ;  for,  noting  prac 
tically  that  their  heavy  fragrance  thickened  the  air  for  that 
laboring  breath,  he  swept  them  all  up  with  both  hands, 
and  carried  them  out  into  the  kitchen.  As  it  chanced,  he 
set  them  down  there  on  a  low  table,  where  baby,  slyly 
straining  on  its  little  tiptoes,  reached  after  them  with  that 
grip  of  the  baby-fist  which  makes  up  in  tenacity  what  it 
lacks  in  comprehensiveness,  and,  dragging  the  whole  pile 
of  costly  blossoms  down  on  the  floor,  revelled  in  the  deli 
cious  mischief  of  tearing  them  all  to  bits.  There  would 
certainly  have  been  loud  outcries  from  the  small  destroyer, 
if  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  interfered  with  this  pastime, 
and  she  did  not.  No :  in  the  little  kitchen  whence  all 
others  had  withdrawn  now,  she  sat  silently  shredding  her 
bitter  thoughts  while  the  babe  on  the  floor  shredded  the 
(lowers  ;  nor  was  the  infant's  mind  further  than  hers  from 
the  soul  that  was  passing. 

Life,  almost  to  the  last,  wrestled  hard  with  death  in  the 
strong-knit  frame  of  the  poor  sailor ;  and  the  minister,  so 
powerful  to  lift  the  gasping  sufferer  into  more  easy  atti 
tudes,  and  yet  more  powerful  to  sustain  the  parting  spirit, 
did  not  leave  until  all  was  over.  It  was  midnight  ere 
this  release  came ;  and  Mr.  Leigh  then  started  for  home 
in  an  a)  straction  in  which  he  forgot  Mrs.  Van  Cort- 


358  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

iaudt.  He  went  a  few  paces,  then  suddenly  remembered 
bis  manners,  and  came  back  to  offer  his  arm  to  his  lady 
parishioner,  who  must  walk  at  this  late  hour  to  her  lodg 
ings.  The  proud  woman  whom  he  had  forgotten,  sharply 
affronted  as  she  felt,  had  risen  to  her  feet  even  to  go  after 
him  ;  for  she  had  lingered  through  all  this  long  waiting- 
time  at  the  cottage  for  an  opportunity  that  she  would  not 
lot  slip  to-night,  at  whatever  cost  of  pride.  So,  taking 
the  arm  of  her  tardy  escort,  she  went  out  from  the  little 
house.  The  great  moon  of  the  night  was  riding  high  in 
the  zenith  now ;  and  no  foot  was  abroad  so  late,  save  that 
of  a  neighbor  who  came  up  the  lane  to  straighten  the  dead 
man  for  his  burial.  It  was  so  short  a  walk  around  the 
corner,  and  along  the  main  street,  to  Capt.  Gawthrop's, 
that,  very  soon  after  leaving  the  cottage,  Mrs.  Van  Cort- 
landt  began,  — 

''There  is  a  trouble  on  my  mind,  Mr.  Leigh,  that  I 
have  been  wishing  to  speak  to  you  about." 

"  Shall  I  call  on  you  to-morrow?"  replied  the  clergy 
man,  as  the  lady  was  slackening  her  steps  rather  sug 
gestively. 

"  I  think  there  will  be  time  to  speak  of  it  now,"  said 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  suppressing  another  angry  sense  o' 
slight. 

The  man  who  had  been  much  preyed  upon  by  ladies 
with  troubles  on  their  mind  which  they  must  open  at  some 
what  untimely  seasons  had  never  found  this  lady  one  of 
that  indiscreet  company  before.  But  he  could  but  fall 
obedient  into  the  lingering  pace  which  the  widow  set,  and 
prepare  to  give  ear. 

"The  trouble  is  one  which  wholly  concerns  others,  n')t 
myself,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  with  her  usual  slow, 
refined  utterance.  "A  very  great  calamity  is  likely  to 
befall  our  friends  the  Roosevelt*  unless  they  are  warned 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  359 

of  certain  facts  which  are  in  my  possession.  It  is  so 
painful  an  interference  for  me  to  undertake  personally,  I 
naturally  conclude  to  ask  you,  as  their  pastor  and  mine,  to 
discharge  this  duty  in  whatever  way  you  may  think  best." 

The  pastor  listened  to  learn  his  duty.  "There  is  a 
young  girl  in  this  place  whose"  —  the  lady  hesitated  with 
the  proper  diffidence  of  a  lady  forced  to  speak  of  delicate 
matters  to  a  gentleman  — 4 '  whose  past  has  a  perfectly 
ruinous  stain.  The  young  person  was  never  of  my  ac 
quaintance,  but  accident  informed  me  of  all  the  facts  of 
her  misbehavior  at  the  time.  It  was  several  years  ago 
that  her  scandalous  affair  occurred.  It  was  very  skilfully 
covered  up,  I  fancy ;  so  that  she  has  been  received  ever 
since  as  an  honest  girl.  Her  face  is  a  striking  one,  and  I 
recognized  her  the  moment  I  met  her  here.  But  of  course 
I  did  not  feel  called  upon  to  betray  what  I  knew  about 
her,  until  I  learned  that  she  was  likely  to  marry  a  man 
whose  family  would  naturally  sooner  see  him  dead  than  so 
married.  And  he  himself  is  utterly  ignorant,  of  course, 
of  these  antecedents  of  hers.  She  has,  as  I  have  said,  a 
striking  sort  of  face,  one  that  at  first  sight  gives  a  certain 
impression  of  beauty.  And  being  a  lively,  extremely  talk 
ative  young  person,  she  has  a  great  attraction  for  very 
young  men,"  said  the  widow,  thinking  it  wise  to  admin 
ister  even  these  small  thrusts  in  her  stabbing  of  Monny's 
image  in  the  breast  of  the  not  very  young  man  who  was 
listening  to  her.  "Several  such,"  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt 
went  on,  "  }Toung  men  of  society  and  fashion  have  been 
here  this  summer,  I  find,  as  her  admirers,  —  Ilalstone 
Roosevelt  among  them.  He  was  here  in  his  yacht  a  few 
weeks  since,  it  seems ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  from  what  I 
have  heard,  that  he  is  so  deeply  interested  in  the  girl  as  to 
be  seeking  her  in  marriage." 

Infinity  is  n)t  wider  than  was  Kenyon  Leigh's  thought 


360  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

from  any  imagination  that  his  betrothed  was  the  being 
whom  Mrs  Van  Cortlanclt  was  speaking  of.  Not  even 
the  small  innuendoes  which  she  mingled  with  her  deadly 
aspersions  against  the  unknown  girl  in  the  least  suggested 
Moimy  to  him. 

4 '  Talkative  ! "  to  describe  by  that  cheap  word  the  chs  rra 
of  Monny's  rippling  speech  would  have  seemed  to  her 
lover  a  kind  of  slandering  of  her.  No  :  he  had  a  strong 
sense  of  bewilderment  at  learning  that  not  the  maiden 
whom  with  never- to-be  forgotten  sensations  he  had  seen 
Ilalstone  Roosevelt  salute  on  the  pier,  that  not  Mouny, 
was  the  magnet  who  had  drawn  the  young  yachtsman  to 
Lonewater,  but  some  unknown  frail  deceiver  sojourning 
there.  He  felt  quite  overwhelmed  with  surprise,  but  with 
no  other  emotion,  as  he  replied  to  the  widow's  mysterious 
tale  with  the  question,  "  What  is  the  name  of  the  girl  you 
speak  of  ?  " 

"  She  is  at  your  own  lodgings  :  she  is  that  Miss  Rivers 
whom ' '  — 

The  man  dropped  the  woman's  arm  as  if  he  had  been 
struck.  "  Miss  Rivers  is  to  be  my  wife  !  "  shot  from  his 
lips  like  the  bolt  from  a  thunder-cloud. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt  had  not  quite  expected  to  hear 
this.  She  believed  that  very  damaging  inroads  had  been 
made  on  Mr.  Leigh's  fancy  by  his  young  fellow-boarder ; 
but  she  could  never  have  believed  that  the  fortress  which 
had  cost  her  a  four-years'  siege  had  surrendered  in  a  few 
short  weeks  to  a  mere  curly-haired  girl.  Still  her  self- 
possession  did  not  forsake  her  at  this  crisis.  She  an- 
swt  red  firmly,  — 

"  There  is  only  the  more  reason,  then,  for  me  to  repeat 
that  she  is  a  ruined  ' '  — 

"Madam!"  imperiously  interrupted  the  man,  "have 
you  not  understood  me,  that,  when  you  speak  to  me  of 


A  KI:VI:I:I:ND  IDOL.  361 

Miss  Rivers,  you  speak  to  me  of  my  wife?  "  And  with 
out  lifting  his  hat  from  his  head,  or  making  any  sign  of 
adieu,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  with  the  speed  of  wrath 
went  on  his  homeward  way. 

The  lady  thus  left  had  but  a  step  or  two  more  to  reach 
her  gate ;  but  she  did  not  take  them  until  she  had  lis 
tened  with  straining  ear  to  the  last  echo  of  that  rapidly 
receding  footfall.  It  might  return :  she  had  a  fear  that 
it  might.  When  it  did  not,  she  turned  and  entered  the 
Inuse,  with  one  sense  of  satisfaction  piercing  through  all 
tin1,  emotions  which  raged  in  her  breast.  In  the  blind 
game  she  was  playing  she  had  just  grasped  one  new  item 
of  knowledge  which  would  serve  her  well. 

Meanwhile  Mr.'  Leigh  went  at  a  flying  pace  over  the 
road  between  the  village  and  the  house  that  held  Monny. 

Entering  the  familiar  little  entry,  he  heard  the  soft 
rustle  of  skirts  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  as  a  young 
figure  leaned  half  out  of  a  door  there,  and  then  was  steal 
ing  noiselessly  away  again. 

4  k  Darling,  my  own  darling,  do  come  here  a  moment !  " 
he  called  to  her,  with  some  low,  yearning  cry,  to  which 
Monny  came  down  over  the  stairs  like  a  bird  to  its  mate. 

What  did  he  want  of  her?  Nothing.  Only  to  fold  her 
quick  and  close  in  his  arms  as  he  had  never  quite  done 
before,  to  press  her  soft  cheeks  to  his  :  he  had  no  word 
to  say  beyond,  "Dear  child,  it  is  quite  midnight.  You 
should  not  sit  up  so  late." 

k'  1  wanted  to  see  you  come  home,"  whispered  the  girl. 

"1  wanted  to  come,"  vehemently  replied  the  lover, 
thinking,  not  of  the  lingering  death-bed  where  he  hud 
been  a  willing  watcher,  but  of  the  insult  which  had  come 
after  it  to  this  young  creature,  which  had  made  his  feet 
devour  the  road  in  an  instinctive  impulse  to  be  protect- 
ingly  near  her. 


362  A   REVEREND  IDOL. 

"I  wish  it  was  our  own  home  indeed,"  be  went  on. 
"  I  wish  Ana's  name  was  Ana  Leigh  this  moment,  and 
my  right  arm  around  her  forever.  Tell  me,  dear,"  he 
added,  drawing  the  girl  to  sit  down  beside  him  on  the 
stair,  "  why  need  we  part  for  very  long  when  we  go 
away  from  this  blessed  old  house,  which  I  must  leave 
very  soon  now,  you  know?'* 

lie  had  not  precisely  intended  before  to  urge  his  young 
betrothed  to  an  immediate  marriage ;  but  now,  if  this 
was  a  world  where  innocence  like  hers  could  be  struck  at 
by  calumny,  he  wanted  at  once  to  stand  visibly  where 
blows  at  her  must  be  struck  through  him. 

"What  can  there  really  be  to  delay  for?"  he  argued. 
"  Wedding-clothes?"  he  inquired,  with  his  new  consid- 
erateness  for  the  feminine  point  of  view.  u  Certainly 
dressmakers  would  be  willing  to  hurry.  They  seem  to 
me  the  most  obliging  of  women,"  he  declared*  arguing 
from  his  experience  with  the  New- York  milliner.  "  And, 
besides,  I  am  sure  you  never  wear  any  thing  now  that  is 
not  beautiful  enough  for  any  bride  in  the  world.  What 
can  there  be  to  wait  f  or  ?  " 

Profound  silence  had  fallen  on  Monny  during  these 
words.  The  coy  dcmurrings,  which,  under  other  circum 
stances,  she  might  have  opposed  to  her  lover's  entreaty, 
came  not  to  her  lips  now :  one  absorbing  pre-occupation 
held  her  mute.  Yes,  in  the  hush  of  the  deepening  night, 
when  every  companionship  grows  more  dear  and  tender, 
with  a  sense  of  all  the  solemn  mysteries  which  compass 
our  lives  about,  —  in  this  hour,  with  her  lover's  breath  on 
her  cheek,  Monny  was  again  mightily  impelled  to  tell  him 
all  that  secret.  Or  could  she  not  wait,  as  aunt  Persy 
had  suggested,  till  she  was  his  wife?  And  he  wished  her 
to  be  his  wife  so  soon  !  A  very  brief  waiting-time,  then, 
it  would  be.  Surely  she  might  delay  this  little  while. 


A   REVEHEND   IDOL.  3ti3 

All  this  silent  tumult  within  resulted  at  last  in  these  sud 
den  words,  with  which  she  abruptly  broke  silence, — 

"Mr.  Leigh,  I  want  to  join  your  church." 

"Darling,  you  are  in  it  now.  I  have  no  church  but 
that  of  the  true  believers.  The  church  of  my  fathers  is 
only  that  outward  form  of  it  which  I  love  best,  because  I 
am  at  home  in  it.  I  hope  very  much,  of  course,  that  you 
will  like  to  join  that  too,  in  due  time." 

"But  I  mean  I  want  to  join  it  now,  —  here  on  the 
stairs.  Lay  your  hand  on  my  head,  —  the  ministerial 
hand,  —  and  say  over  me,  not  the  congregation  blessing, 
but  a  little  private  and  particular  and  individual  4  God 
bless.'" 

The  girl  was  not  trifling,  her  voice  was  any  thing  in  the 
world  but  trifling;  and  the  ministerial  hand,  and  oh!  the 
lover's  hand,  was  laid  on  the  fair  head,  and  "God  bless 
my  own  wife  !  "  was  said,  —  "God  bless  her  !  " 

"And  forgive  her  all  her  sins,  negligences,  and  igno 
rances,"  Monny  subjoined,  making  her  own  rubrics.  "If 
she  have  any  sin  that  she  know  not  if  it  be  a  sin,  wash 
it  away,  and  make  her  meet  to  be  a  minister's  wife,  — 
such  a  minister  as  Keuyon  Leigh  !  "  The  sweet  voice 
broke  up  with  a  sob ;  and  with  a  sudden  impulse  the  girl 
reached  up,  and  for  the  first,  first  time,  threw  her  arms 
around  her  lover's  neck.  He  drew  her  on  his  knee  with 
that  long,  clinging  clasp,  living  one  of  love's  immortal 
moments  as  this  tender  heart  throbbed  so  fast  and  flutter 
ing  against  his,  but  never,  never  once  imagining  that 
heart  was  quivering  with  a  secret  which  it  longed,  yet 
dreaded  to  tell  him. 

It  was  in  the  strain  of  this  man's  own  nature  to  con 
sider  that  people  ought  to  ask  pardon  for  their  igno- 
ronces,  and  ivulizc  that  it  would  be  very  hard  for  them 
to  find  it  too  (if  they  were  people  who  had  had  oppor- 


364  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

tunity  to  know) ,  when  ignorances  wrought  such  endless 
mischief  in  the  world.  And  that  Monny  should  make 
just  that  peculiar  rejoinder  to  his  plea  for  their  early 
marriage  seemed  to  him  only  characteristic  of  the  intense 
purity  of  her  nature  and  aspirations.  That  benedictory 
little  ceremonial  she  had  asked  of  him  was  quite  one  of 
her  darling  ways.  And  he  found  it  too  altogether  like 
the  maiden  to  control  very  soon,  as  she  now  did,  the 
impulsive  outburst  of  feeling  in  which  she  had  flung  her- 
se'.f  on  her  lover's  breast  —  there  was  never  too  much  of 
Monny. 

"No,  no!  I  wish  to  talk  calm  and  steady,"  she  said, 
withdrawing  insistently  from  the  arms  that  would  detain 
her,  to  sit  in  her  former  place  on  the  stairs.  She  was 
nerving  herself  again  for  the  great  confession  ;  for  that 
little  absolution  which  she  had  craved  of  her  lover  had 
not  brought  peace,  after  all.  She  had  not  felt  quite  con 
firmed,  not  quite  in  the  church  of  the  true  believers  — 
no,  not  with  the  hand  of  that  bishop  of  her  soul  on  her 
head.  The  true  believers  must  tell. 

She  was  going  to  tell  now.  But  the  unconscious  man 
beside  her,  swaying  to  her  apparent  mood,  rejoined  to  her 
last  words  with,  "  Calm  and  steady  then,  let  us  talk  over 
things,  and  consider  how,  when  I  go  back  to  New  York, 
that  dreary  period  can  be  shortened  during  which  I  must 
take  a  journey  even  to  look  at  my  darling." 

"Shall  you  truly  come  often?"  asked  Monny,  still 
temporizing,  still  taking  up  any  little  remark  that  might 
postpone  the  subject  she  so  dreaded  to  begin. 

"Every  other  day  at  least,"  declared  Mr.  Leigh. 
"And  the  other  day  to  come  and  go  all  the  long  miles. 
There  will  be  a  useful  minister  of  a  parish  !  But  see  how 
every  thing  would  be  simplified  if  we  were  married.  How 
can  I  even  buv  a  house  for  us  to  live  in  without  consulting 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  365 

its  mistress?  And  how  can  I  consult  her,  if  she  is  not 
there?  Evidently  she  must  be  there.  Evidently,  there 
fore,  we  must  be  married,  perch  a  while  in  hotel-apart 
ments,  whence  we  can  go  forth  and  look  us  up  the  perfect 
dwelling  at  our  leisure.  That  will  be  the  convenient,  the 
delightful  way  to  begin  our  new  days ;  and  what  do  we 
care  for  the  parading  way?  I  see  this  very  moment  how 
my  apartments  in  New  York  can  be  broadened  out  by 
taking  in  the  next  suite  of  apartments,  —  rooms  that  car 
be  made  over  into  studios  and  boudoirs  and  every 
thing." 

4 'Is  there  nobody  in  the  rooms  now?"  murmured 
Monny. 

u  None  but  miserable  bachelors,  who  have  no  rights 
that  a  married  man  is  bound  to  respect.  Oh,  I  can  get 
rooms,  —  if  not  at  my  present  hotel,  then  at  another,  — • 
oceans  of  rooms  ;  and  then,  with  two  of  us  to  find  it,  how 
soon  we  shall  find  a  house  !  And,  when  that  is  found,  I 
have  a  famous  British  housekeeper  all  ready,  —  a  woman 
competent  to  move  us  into  it  with  our  eyes  shut.  I 
brought  her  over  from  Europe  this  summer  for  the  very 
purpose.  Seriously,  there  came  on  my  steamer  one  Mrs. 
Bunleigh,  who  was  housekeeper  at  a  gentleman's  country- 
seat  where  I  used  to  make  holiday  visits  when  I  was  a 
lad  at  an  English  school.  She  is  that  paragon  of  all 
housekeepers,  the  English  trained  housekeeper,  and  wishes 
to  sojourn  now  in  this  unworthy  land,  because  of  her 
two  grown-up  sons,  whom  she  is  just  starting  in  cer 
tain  lines  of  trade  in  New  York.  This  excellent  woman 
dropped  me  a  true  British  courtesy  on  the  streets  the  very 
last  time  I  went  to  the  city  ;  and,  as  I  stopped  for  a  word 
with  her,  it  appeared  that  her  present  situation  so  humili 
ates  her  she  desired  to  change  it.  She  is  housekeeper  in 
the  family  of  a  wealthy  merchant  of  the  city.  Her  griev- 


866  A   REVEREND    IDOL. 

ance  there  is  a  social  one.  Being  a  perfectly  grammatical 
woman,  and  of  dignified,  not  to  say  commanding,  pres 
ence,  her  American  mistress  has  given  Mrs.  Bunleigh  a 
seat  at  the  family  table.  It  was  plain  that  Mrs.  Bunleigh 
had  no  respect  whatever  for  a  civilization  which  admitted 
its  housekeeper  to  such  intimacy.  Dearest,  authorize  me 
to  notify  to-morrow  this  priceless  woman  to  hold  heiself 
ready  to  respect  the  privacies  in  our  house." 

The  wooer  had  turned  his  talk  on  all  these  little  trifles 
of  domestic  detail  in  a  thought  to  carry  his  main  point  by 
easy,  unalarming  stages,  with  the  girl  who  sat  so  pensive, 
yet  whose  little  remarks  now  and  then  encouraged  him 
to  hope  that  she  might  be  gradually  accepting  his  idea. 
Thus  now,  as  he  paused  in  his  eloquence  over  the  English 
housekeeper,  Monny  said,  — 

44  Am  I  not  going  to  be  a  great  expense  to  you,  and  no 
profit,  if  you  hire  British  housekeepers?  Do  you  know 
that  my  fortune  is  only  a  very  little  one,  that  I  am  not 
worth  much  myself?  " 

' '  No,  I  did  not  know  that :  it  is  a  great  disappointment 
to  me  to  learn  it.  How  many  golden  dollars  would  these 
make,  melted  down,  I  wonder?"  said  the  doting  lover, 
lifting  one  of  the  shining  curls,  which  at  this  hour  were 
all  tumbling  down  in  very  picturesque  disarray.  ' '  By  the 
way,"  he  added,  "I  remember  your  telling  me  one  day 
that  all  this  wonderful  hair  was  cut  off  once,  and  lost,  or 
thrown  away.  How  came  you  to  do  such  a  sin  ?  ' ' 

A  sudden  shiver  ran  over  the  girl  at  these  words.  The 
secret  that  she  was  just  going  to  confess  unasked,  it  yet 
shook  her  to  have  her  lover  stumble  on  so  unaware. 

"  Dear  little  wind-fiower,  you  are  cold  !  "  was  the  man's 
exclamation  at  the  sensible  thrill  which  quivered  through 
the  young  frame  beside  him.  "I  ought  never  to  have 
called  you  down  into  this  chilly  entry,  knowing  weii  how 


A  KKVT-:i:r:xD  IDOL.  367 

slow  I  should  be  to  let  you  go  again.  I  hear  Snsannao 
coining  up  the  back  stairs  to  bed.  AVe  shall  see  the  whites 
of  her  eyes  if  she  sees  us  sitting  here,  the  selfish  man 
keeping  his  darling  up  when  she  ought  to  be  asleep." 

And  he  kissed  her,  and  they  parted  —  and  she  had  not 
told. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt  knew  perfectly  well  aU  the  main 
facts  of  that  journey  to  New  Orleans,  which  she  meant  to 
use  for  the  ruin  of  Mouny's  good  name :  we  mean  she 
knew  those  facts,  not  in  their  false  appearance,  but  just  as 
they  really  were.  She  was,  as  the  reader  will  have  sur 
mised,  that  lady-passenger  on  the  cars  near  New  Orleans, 
styled  by  Kate  De  Lancey  "the  humbug  Madonna," 
whose  curious  scrutiny  of  the  two  young  travellers  had  so 
incensed  the  Southern  girl.  That  had  been  the  widow's 
first  sight  of  Monuy  Rivers  as  she  lay  asleep  on  the  shoul 
der  of  the  apparent  young  man.  Her  attention  even  then 
had  been  first  drawn  to  the  girl  by  the  beauty  of  her  hand, 
as,  in  the  unconsciousness  of  slumber,  it  drooped  con 
spicuously  over  the  back  of  the  car-seat.  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt,  with  her  extreme  sensitiveness  to  that  point  of 
personal  beauty,  had  studied  the  perfection  of  this  hand 
for  some  moments  from  her  seat  a  little  in  rear  of  the 
two ;  and,  when  she  presently  had  occasion  to  leave  the 
car  with  other  passengers,  she  turned  round  to  look  at 
the  sleeping  girl,  just  as  Kate,  "  forgetting  that  she  was  a 
man,"  was  moved  to  kiss  her.  This  salute,  under  the 
circumstance's,  had  certainly  a  highly  indiscreet  appear 
ance  ;  and  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  with  her  European  ideas 
of  things,  immediately  assumed  that  this  was  some  young 
scion  of  aristocracy  travelling  with  his  inamorata  of  an 
irregular  character.  And,  as  she  came  to  this  conclusion, 
<t  was  not  the  face  of  the  supposed  young  man,  but  of 


368  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

the  girl,  whom  her  downward-glancing  eyelids  swept  with 
scorn.  It  was  this  look  which  had  so  roused  the  fury  of 
the  easily  roused  Miss  Kate. 

Now,  it  had  also  chanced,  that,  two  or  three  days  after 
this  encounter,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  bowing  to  her  New- 
York  friend  Mrs.  Bingham,  in  the  breakfast-room  of  the 
St.  Charles  Hotel,  saw  under  that  lady's  distinguished 
care  a  young  girl,  whom  she  presently  identified  as  that 
sleeping  damsel  on  the  train.  The  chaperonage  which 
the  girl  at  present  enjoyed  proving  at  once  to  the  widow 
how  utterly  she  herself  had  misconceived  the  young  trav 
eller's  character  and  position,  she  naturally  took  a  fresh 
survey  of  the  latter  in  her  present  wide-awake  condition. 
And,  as  the  young  figure  settled  itself  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  observed  that  beautiful  hand 
go  up  to  the  head  with  its  childish  short  hair,  that  there 
came  then  a  rather  odd  expression  of  bewilderment,  suc 
ceeded  by  a  singularly  brilliant  blush,  which  made  the 
girl's  face  fairly  dazzling  for  a  moment  with  its  radiant 
illumination.  Every  one  knows  how  a  gesture  will  cling 
to  the  memory  :  the  merest  little  way  of  turning  the  head, 
or  lifting  the  eyes,  —  such  slight  peculiarities  of  move 
ment,  —  although  they,  may  be  not  in  the  least  strange  or 
eccentric,  seem  to  have  some  gift  for  fastening  themselves 
on  the  attention  beyond  an}^  outline  of  features  in  repose. 
Monny  had  some  little  characteristic  way  of  throwing  back 
her  hair;  and  at  that  hotel  breakfast-table  she  put  up  her 
hnad  with  this  involuntary  movement,  when,  finding  her 
hair  missing  (for  the  instant  she  had  forgotten  that  it  was 
cut  off),  all  the  consciousness  that  was  connected  with 
those  recently  sheared  locks  made  her  blush.  The  striking 
blush,  the  beauty  of  the  hand,  the  peculiar  movement  of 
the  hand,  —  all  these  were  seen  in  conjunction  five  years 
after  in  the  entry  of  the  little  Lone  water  church,  and  seen 


A    RFYF.RKXD    IDOL.  300 

by  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  to  the  infallible  identification  of 
Monny  Rivers  with  that  young  girl  at  New  Orleans. 

There  had  been  yet  another  bit  of  sequel  to  the  affair 
ere  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  left  the  St.  Charles ;  to  wit, 
after  the  veritable  Carroll  De  Lancey  had  arrived  at  New 
Orleans,  and  his  sister  had  resumed  her  own  name  and 
attii  e,  the  young  lady  chanced  one  day  to  meet  face  to 
face,  in  a  corridor  of  the  hotel,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  A 
cat  might  look  upon  a  king,  but  no  mortal  on  Kate  De 
Lancey  or  her  friends  as  she  did  not  choose  to  be  looked 
at.  Accordingly,  when  Miss  Kate  now  recognized  the 
u  sham  duchess"  of  the  railway-train  she  stopped  short, 
gathered  up  her  sweeping  feminine  array,  and  taking  one 
of  her  "•  Judith"  attitudes,  with  an  access  of  antagonism 
towards  this  woman  which  overbore  all  prudence,  the  reck 
less  girl  broke  out  thus,  — 

"  When  you  sneer  again  at  an  innocent  baby  of  sixteen, 
look  out  that  it  isn't  my  sister-in-law  to  be  !  " 

Having  launched  this  oracular  utterance,  the  haughty 
beauty  swept  on  her  way,  leaving  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  of 
course,  sufficiently  confounded.  Kate's  marvellous  black 
eyes  had  flashed  so  absolutely  the  same  blazing  glance  at 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  now,  which  the  latter  remembered  from 
that  fiery  young  cavalier  in  the  cars,  the  widow,  notwith 
standing  all  the  affront  she  felt,  stood  gazing  after  the 
young  lady  in  a  sense  of  some  extraordinary  mystery. 
Then,  seeing  her  stop  far  down  the  corridor  to  speak  to  a 
servant.  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  waited  to  waylay  the  latter, 
who,  when  she  came  up,  proved  to  be  Mrs.  Binglmm'd 
maid  Jane. 

"  Who  is  that  handsome  j'oung  lady  who  spoke  to  you 
just  now?"  askc'd  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  of  the  maid. 

u  Miss  Kate  De  Lancey  of  Maryland,  ma'am." 

"  One  of  the  Baltimore  De  Lanceys?  " 


370  A  EEVEEEND   IDOL. 

"Those  same,  ma'am." 

"  Are  any  more  of  the  family  here?  " 

44  Miss  Kate's  twin-brother,  Mr.  Carroll  De  Lancey, 
came  last  night ' '  — 

' '  Ah  !  you  mean  he  came  several  days  ago  with  a  very 
young  girl." 

Not  to  quote  this  colloquy  further,  the  end  of  it  was, 
that  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  extracted  from  Jane,  who  had 
dressed  Miss  Kate  when  she  changed  her  masculine  for 
her  feminine  attire,  the  whole  secret  of  that  young  lady's 
extraordinary  personation  of  her  brother.  Jane  was  a 
most  trusty  servant,  and  no  tattler :  but  she  looked  upon 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  as  a  friend  of  her  mistress  ;  and  the 
widow's  questions  were  so  directed,  that  the  maid  was 
led  on  to  tell  the  real  truth  in  order  to  clear  the  char 
acter  of  Mr.  Carroll's  young  betrothed  from  any  such  dis 
reputable  supposition  as  that  they  had  made  the  joarney 
together. 

Now,  poor  Jane,  who  was  even  then  ailing,  took  her  bed 
that  very  day,  of  the  malady  of  which  she  died.  Mrs. 
Bingham  was  out  of  the  city,  and  did  not  return  until  the 
next  day,  when  her  favorite  servant  was  already  in  a  dan 
gerous  condition,  and,  as  it  proved,  very  near  her  death. 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  who  had  carefully  recalled  all  these 
facts,  said  now  that  there  was  no  human  probability  that 
it  ever  occurred  to  the  dying  maid  to  inform  her  mistress 
that  she  had  confided  to  her  the  affair  of  the  two  girls. 
Certainly  Mrs.  Bingham  had  never  mentioned  the  subject 
to  her,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt ;  and  the  latter,  after  Jane's 
explanation  had  furnished  a  complete  solution  to  the 
enigma  which  puzzled  her,  had  been  glad  to  let  the  whole 
matter  drop  in  silence. 

It  will  be  seen,  from  the  foregoing  sketch  of  the  circum 
stances,  that  they  presented  to  the  woman  whose  interest  il 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  371 

now  was  to  destroy  Monny  Rivers,  this  great  conjunction 
of  opportunities  ;  viz.,  that  she  could  deal  a  deadly  blow  at 
the  girl  with  entire  security  to  herself,  whatever  the  result 
of  that  blow ;  for  she  could  declare,  as  an  eye-witness, 
that  this  Monny  Rivers  once  took  a  long  journey  as  the 
pretended  wife  of  a  very  fast  young  man.  And,  even  if 
the  falsity  of  her  tale  was  found  out,  no  one  was  alive  to 
whisper  that  she,  the  accuser,  knew  its  falsity,  —  knew 
that  the  girl's  companion  on  that  journey  had  been  no 
young  man  at  all,  but  a  girl  dressed  up  in  her  brother's 
clothes.  Clad  in  this  proof-armor  for  herself,  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt  had  begun  to-night  her  attack  on  Monny  to  Mr. 
Leigh,  seizing  upon  what  she  had  heard  of  young  Ilalstone 
Roosevelt's  flame  for  Miss  Rivers  as  the  most  plausible 
and  telling  way  of  introducing  her  slanders.  She  had 
imagined  that  Mr.  Leigh's  fancy  for  Monny  was  still 
sufficiently  in  the  bud  for  it  to  be  nipped  utterly  in  so 
fastidious  a  man  by  merely  dark  hints  from  herself,  —  a 
simple  indication  that  disgraceful  charges  existed  against 
the  girl. 

"  But  what  was  to  be  done  now?  "  the  enraged  woman 
asked  herself  as  she  went  up  to  her  rooms  after  that 
explosion  with  Mr.  Leigh,  in  which  she  had  learned  that 
Miss  Rivers  was  already  his  betrothed  wife.  Sending 
Tonson  at  once  to  bed,  who  came  sleepily  forward  to 
wait  on  her  mistress,  the  latter  sat  down  alone  in  the  still 
house  for  a  long  hour  of  intense  thought.  She  had  dis 
covered  one  new  thing  in  the  very  quality  of  Mr.  Leigh's 
indignation  when  he  left  her  at  the  gate;  viz.,  that  he 
knew  nothing  as  yet,  in  any  shape,  of  that  New-Orleana 
journey  of  Miss  Rivers.  For  if  he  had  known  it,  the 
widow  reasoned,  he  would  have  remembered  it  to-night, 
so  soon  as  the  first  passion  of  his  wrath  had  passed  ;  he 
would  have  bethought  himself  of  that  strange  adventure, 


872  A  REVEKEND   IDOL. 

and  of  all  the  damaging  construction  to  which  it  waa 
liable ;  and  conceiving  that  the  affair  had  been  somehow 
injuriously  blown  to  her — Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  —  ears, 
lie  would  have  turned  back  with  a  word  of  explanation. 
The  widow  knew  that  this  sober  second- thought  would 
have  been  sure  to  come  to  the  man,  and  to  have  brought 
him  back,  whatever  his  pride,  and  ail  the  more  because 
of  his  pride,  to  speak  with  her  again.  lie  had  made  no 
such  re-appearance,  conclusive  proof  that  he  was  in  utter 
ignorance  of  that  passage  in  Miss  Rivers 's  history. 
What  probability  was  there  that  she  had  told  him  even  of 
her  engagement  to  Carroll  De  Lancey  ?  Let  a  knowledge 
of  that  engagement  first  come  to  a  man  like  Kenyon 
Leigh  from  without ;  let  the  false  story  of  that  entangled 
journey  to  New  Orleans  be  sprung  on  his  mind  with  no 
knowledge  of  the  true  story  there  to  correct  it  by  —  what 
misunderstandings  might  not  be  stirred  up  ? 

Darkly  these  thoughts  twined  and  untwined  themselves 
in  the  brain  of  the  plotting  woman,  until  they  were 
knotted  into  a  firm  web  of  action.  She  would  spread 
before  Kenyon  Leigh,  with  all  exactness  of  details,  her 
own  lying  version  of  that  New-Orleans  journey,  and  see 
what  would  come  of  it. 

Certainly  there  were  numberless  forces  now  which 
might  snap  the  cunningest  snare  she  could  lay  for  the 
feet  of  Mr.  Leigh's  betrothed.  But  every  warfare  was 
waged  against  elements  of  uncertainty.  "  When  a  great 
general  planned  his  strategy,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  what 
did  he  do  about  all  those  unknown  movements  which 
would  meet  him  from  the  opposite  side?  He  dared  them." 
She  would  dare.  Fate,  as  we  have  shown,  permitted  that 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  should  dare  in  this  case  with  great 
impunity.  And  in  the  small  hours  of  the  night  a  letter 
was  written,  which  Tonson  would  carry  to  Mr.  Leigh  by 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  373 

th?  morning  light.  Then  the  writer  of  the  letter  went  to 
her  late  rest. 

When  a  previously  decorous  life  breaks  out  in  some 
piece  of  atrocious  wickedness,  it  is  wont  to  be  curiously 
asked,  "  Had  this  homor  always  been  a  consummate  hypo 
crite,  doing  other  such  deeds  in  secret,  or  did  there  come 
some  complete  moral  turning-point,  when  he  consciously 
sold  his  soul  to  Satan?"  Probably  an  explanation  far 
more  commonplace,  far  nearer  the  level  of  our  common 
human  frailty,  would  generally  be  found  the  true  one ; 
viz.,  that  this  criminal  kept  himself  all  the  while  in  very 
comfortable  conscience  by  assuming  that  there  were  par 
ticular  circumstances  which  quite  took  away  from  his 
particular  act  of  crime  all  the  criminal  quality  which  such 
a  deed  would  have  in  the  abstract.  Abstract  murderers, 
it  may  be,  even  the  murderer  sees,  —  monsters  who  spill 
human  blood  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  seeing  it  flow, 
diabolical  creatures  whom  he  in  no  wise  resembles.  He 
only  stabbed  his  enemy,  —  the  man  who  angered  him,  or 
who  stood  in  his  way. 

That  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  could  resolve  to  put  her 
young  rival  out  of  the  way  by  an  injury  so  much  worse 
than  death,  and  sleep  calmly  after  it,  was  not  because  she 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  lying  away  the  characters  of 
innocent  girls ;  for  this  was  her  first  act  of  the  kind. 
This  particular  girl,  against  whom  she  had  been  planning 
one  enormous  lie  ever  since  she  first  saw  her  standing 
beside  Kenyon  Leigh  in  the  church-entry,  she  had  a 
particular  remorselessness  in  thus  destroying.  To  be 
gin  with,  she  assumed  this  young  ward  of  the  lumber- 
merchant  Slabwell  to  be  a  parvenue,  and  the  kind  of 
parvenue  which  roused  her  strongest  animosity;  viz., 
the  feminine  being  who  attained  social  distinction  and  the 
homage  of  men  through  her  talents.  These  were  the 


374  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

creatures  —  great  opera-singers,  actresses,  and  the  like  — 
who  had  been  known  to  scale  the  social  ladder  by  more 
audacious  bounds  than  any  other  variety  of  mortal,  pass 
ing,  sometimes,  from  a  peasant's  cottage  to  a  duke's 
palace. 

This  Rivers  girl  was  such  a  lusus  naturce,  getting  her 
self  into  prospective  alliance  with  so  aristocratic  a  family 
as  the  De  Lanceys  when  she  was  scarcely  out  of  her 
pinafores,  having  such  a  class  of  introductions  at  New 
port  as  enabled  her  to  count  beaux  like  Halstone  Roose- 
volt  in  her  train,  and  now  drawing  the  famous  Kenyon 
Leigh  into  the  mad  folly  of  marrying  her,  —  a  girl  not 
only  born  beneath  him,  but  one  whose  very  gifts  implied 
something  unsound  and  erratic  in  the  character:  that 
he  should  choose  a  wife  like  this  was  only  an  example  of 
the  utterly  wild  fancies  in  love  wont  to  seize  upon  mature 
men. 

These  were  the  widow's  views :  that  they  were  mis 
taken  enough  in  many  directions  did  not  prevent  their 
adding  a  peculiar  unrelenting-ness  to  her  schemes. 


A  KEVEliEND   IDOL.  375 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

next  morning,  before  Mr.  Leigh  left  his  rooms, 
Susannah  slipped  under  his  door  a  letter  which  a 
messenger  had  just  brought.  Picking  it  up,  and  recog 
nizing  the  handwriting  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  his  first 
impulse  was  to  send  the  note  directly  back  unopened. 
But  the  next  instant  the  fact  that  he  was  a  minister  took 
him  by  the  throat.  lie  was  not  wont  to  feel  his  profes 
sion  throttle  him,  but  it  did  now.  He  was  the  pastor  of 
this  lady  who  had  offered  him  the  one  insult  of  his .  life, 
and  it  was  his  business  to  remember  that  she  was  under 
an  intolerable  but  honest  mistake.  Without  doubt  this 
early  note  to  him  was  a  retraction,  an  apology.  In  this 
after-thought,  which  the  writer  of  the  note  had  secretly 
counted  on  for  its  being  opened  and  read,  it  was  finally 
opened  and  read  ;  and  these  were  the  contents  :  — 

"  REV.  KENYON  LEIGH. 

"Dear  Sir,  — If  I  could  have  conceived  that  Miss  Rivers  had 
another  suitor  within  the  circle  of  my  acquaintance,  naturally  I 
should  not  have  said  to  you  what  I  did  last  night.  But,  as  it 
cannot  now  be  unsaid,  I  have  no  resource  but 'to  lay  before  you 
the  plain  facts  which  I  thought  it  a  duty  of  friendship  to  inform 
the  Roosevelts  of. 

"  Five  years  ago  Miss  Rivers,  being  then  a  pupil  in  a  New-York 
boarding-school,  became  engaged  to  Carroll  De  Lancey  of  Balti 
more.  At  the  end  of  her  school-term  she  made  a  runaway  jour 
ney  with  this  lover  from  New  York  to  Xew  Orleans,  escaping 
from  the  city,  at  first,  in  the  dress  of  a  boy.  In  this  disguise  she 
travelled  as  far  as  Jackson,  Miss.,  when,  supposing,  doubtless, 


876  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

that  she  was  beyond  the  reach  of  recognition,  she  resumed  femi« 
nine  attire.  In  that  city  she  staid  all  night  at  a  hotel  with  Mr. 
De  Lancey;  the  pair  registering  their  names  on  the  hotel-books  as 
man  and  wife.  In  this  character  they  then  went  on  to  New 
Orleans,  in  which  part  of  their  travels  I  saw  them  myself  on  the 
cars,  where  their  infatuated  behavior  was  such  as  might  well  draw 
general  attention. 

"  Respectfully  yours, 

"ADELAIDE  VAN  CORTLANDT." 

Mr.  Leigh  tore  this  letter  into  fragments :  but  it  had 
been  read ;  that  was  all  the  writer  wanted.  And  he  an 
swered  it  on  the  spot. 

"Madam,  —  Received  your  note  concerning  some  unknown 
young  woman  whom  you  have  committed  the  extraordinary  offence 
of  confounding  with  the  lady  who  is  to  be  my  wife.  I  have  to 
answer,  first,  that  Miss  Rivers  has  never  been  engaged  to  any  man 
but  myself,  and,  second,  that  your  persistence  in  this  most  odious 
chimera  I  shall  never  be  able  to  pardon,  save  by  remembering 
your  total  want  of  acquaintance  with  the  young  lady  who  will,  I 
hope,  in  a-  very  few  weeks  bear  the  name  of 

"  KENYON  LEIGH." 

Giving  this  note  to  Tonson,  he  went  down  to  breakfast. 

Breakfast  over,  Mr.  Leigh  was  again  in  his  study,  its 
door  into  the  hall  being  left  ajar,  as  it  habitually  was  in 
these  days,  for  a  standing  invitation  to  one  young  visitor 
to  enter. 

As  he  paced  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room  now,  wait 
ing  for  Monny's  appearance,  he  chanced  to  spy  on  the 
carpet  a  stray  scrap  of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  note,  which 
had  escaped  from  his  destroying  fingers.  The  very  sight 
of  this  suggestive  fragment,  as  he  stooped  to  pick  it  up, 
brought  a  returning  rush  of  anger  which  surprised  him 
self.  He  sat  down  thrilling  with  a  mysterious  sense  of 
exposure,  as  if  he  suddenly  stood  bare  to  some  unknown 
wind,  whose  edge,  among  all  the  cutting  airs  that  blow,  he 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  377 

had  never  feit  before.  It  was  the  experience  of  living  in 
another's  life,  and  that  life  not  a  man's,  but  a  woman's. 
He  realized,  for  instance,  that,  if  a  slanderous  tale  had 
been  told  him  of  some  man  whom  he  perfectly  trusted,  he 
would  merely  have  laughed  at  it,  and,  the  more  abominable 
the  slander,  the  more  a  sense  of  its  absurditv  would  have 
left  small  room  for  indignation.  Or,  if  the  ill  tale  had 
really  been  set  forth  with  all  circumstantial  details,  he 
would  have  gone  at  once  to  his  friend,  and  said,  "  Here  are 
certain  remarkable  lies,  which  are  so  reported  about  you 
that  even  honest  people  who  do  not  personally  know  you 
believe  them.  Tell  me  what  are  the  true  facts  in  your  his 
tory  that  have  been  so  perverted  into  these  lying  fables, 
that  I  may  be  able  to  set  you  right  before  strangers." 

No  such  simplicity  of  dealing  could  be  thought  of  as  to 
the  girl  whose  reputation  was  the  sacredest  to  him  on 
earth.  The  most  absolute  trust  that  one  could  have  in  a 
human  being  did  not  enable  him,  he  found,  to  smile  at 
any  calumny  about  Monny.  And  as  for  asking  her  to 
explain,  or  even  breathing  to  her  one  syllable  of  what  he 
had  heard  —  nothing  could  have  been  more  impossible  to 
him  this  morning.  Yet  he  did  not  in  the  least  question 
that  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  was  laboring  under  a  sincere 
delusion  about  Monny :  not  the  faintest  doubt  of  that 
lady's  integrity  in  all  that  she  had  done  touched  his  mind. 
He  recognized,  therefore,  a  certain  quality  of  unreason  in 
the  wrath  which  he  felt  against  her,  —  against  anybody 
and  everybody,  who,  whether  they  had  ever  heard  Monny 
speak,  or  even  seen  her  face,  dared  to  imagine  evil  of 
her.  Certainly  Kenyon  Leigh  was  not  a  man  to  strike  a 
woman,  still  less  a  lady  guilty  of  nothing  worse  than  a 
mistake :  nevertheless,  he  could  not  think  of  that  note 
without  an  impulse  to  deal  a  blow  somewhere.  He  had 
suddenly  discovered  that  there  were  accusations  hi  this 


378  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

world  not  to  be  met  by  explanation,  argument,  words  of 
any  kind,  but  by  fighting. 

All  these  blind  heats  of  feeling,  this  perception  that 
man's  sentiment  for  woman  brought  some  peculiar,  com 
plex  modification  into  all  mortal  laws  of  action,  were  so 
consciously  new  to  Kenyon  Leigh,  he  sat  with  the  contem 
plative,  half-wondering  look  of  a  man  who  suddenly  sees 
the  old  balances  of  things  swimming  round,  and  tLe  new 
level  yet  undetermined.  And  in  the  larger  abstraction  of 
his  mood  mechanically  came  and  went,  as  if  they  were 
said  over  in  his  ear  by  rote,  the  words,  the  names,  in  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt's  letter. 

4 'Carroll  De  Lancey" — he  had  heard  of  him  before  :  it 
was  in  some  talk  of  his  father's,  about  a  year  previous. 
Judge  Leigh  was  still  in  the  active  exercise  of  his  office 
on  the  bench ;  and  at  that  time  his  judicial  opinion  had 
been  privately  sought  by  Mr.  Carroll  (who  had  revolved 
round  to  America,  for  a  season),  as  to  whether  certain 
restrictions  of  Gen.  Warwick's  will  could  be  set  aside. 
What  the  heir  wanted  was  to  make  fly  the  whole  of  Gen. 
Warwick's  wealth  as  swiftly  as  he  had  already  made  fly 
all  of  it  that  he  could  lay  his  hands  on ;  and  the  testator 
had  prudently  debarred  him,  for  a  long  term  of  years  yet, 
from  the  former  privilege.  Judge  Leigh  had  shown  the 
young  spendthrift  that  his  wish  could  not  be  granted  in 
law.  And,  as  the  I  eighs  and  De  Lanceys  had  been  some 
what  acquainted  in  former  generations,  the  judge  had 
chanced  to  speak  with  solicitude,  in  his  son's  presence,  of 
the  wild  courses  followed  by  this  last  of  the  De  Lanceys ; 
for  Carroll's  dissipations  had  become  far  more  pro 
nounced  since  those  young  years  in  which  Monny  had 
known  him.  From  what  he  recalled  now  of  his  father's 
remarks,  Kenyon  Leigh  could  well  imagine  that  Carroll 
De  Lancey  had  been  involved  in  just  such  an  intrigue  as 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  379 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  described,  and  that  the  lady's 
account  was  perfectly  correct,  save  her  one  monstrous 
mistake  of  having  mistaken  the  young  man's  female  com 
panion. 

In  all  these  thoughts  about  Mouii}7,  Mr.  Leigh  became 
so  lost  as  to  be  unaware  of  the  girl  herself  when  she 
presently  appeared  at  his  open  door,  he  sitting  by  the 
farther  window,  his  head  somewhat  turned  away.  4She 
trod  softly ;  for  her  young  heart  was  beating  with  a  great 
timidity  this  morning,  and  it  increased  to  a  kind  of  fear 
as  she  stood  arrested  on  the  threshold  by  the  very  sight  of 
her  lover  sitting  there,  so  unaware  of  her,  in  that  stirless 
attitude,  as  if  the  physical  life  was  almost  suspended  by 
the  intensity  of  the  inner  mental  action.  She  meant  to 
make  the  great  confession  to-day,  before  the  sun  should 
set ;  and,  wtth  this  trembling  thought,  her  eyes  took  in, 
with  some  indescribable  keenness  of  vision,  the  very 
breadth  of  the  man's  shoulders,  the  strong  lines  of  his 
head  as  they  came  out  against  the  light,  the  whole  mascu 
line  unlikeness  to  herself :  for  the  moment,  the  charm  of 
that  unlikeness  was  lost  in  the  awe  of  it ;  for  the  moment, 
her  betrothed  seemed  to  her  an  utterly  unapproachable 
being.  He  stirred,  perhaps  he  felt  Monny  in  the  air: 
turning  his  head,  he  rose  up  at  once  to  his  towering  height. 

Her  mood  of  the  moment  was  so  strong  on  the  girl, 
she  involuntarily  put  out  her  hands,  waving  them,  palms 
downward,  with  a  suppliant  gesture  :  — 

"Oh,  please  stay  down  in  j^our  chair  when  I  come  in, 
and  make  yourself  a  little  smaller !  " 

"  llathcr  a  disrespectful  way  to  receive  a  lady,"  said 
the  mighty  man,  obediently  reseating  himself. 

"  No,  no  !  The  usual  etiquette  shall  be  reversed  in  the 
case  of  giants.  It  shall  be  counted  a  sign  of  respect  in 
them  to  remain  seated,  and  let  the  small  people  stand." 


380  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

'*  At  least  they  may  hold  the  small  people  up,  then," 
said  the  lover,  drawing  the  girl  to  his  side. 

It  was  still  such  a  great  and  wonderful  thing  to  put  a 
lover's  arm  around  Monny,  to  caress  her,  ever  so  lightly, 
the  entrancing  presence  for  the  moment  dimmed  all  other 
consciousness  ;  then  he  said,  "And  where  are  we  going? '' 
—  for  Monny  was  dressed  for  walking. 

"  To  the  village,  of  an  errand." 

*  And  I  am  not  to  be  invited  to  go  too?  " 

4<  When  have  I  ever  invited  you  to  go  to  the  village 
with  me  of  errands,  — dressmaking  errands?  " 

"Dressmaking  in  this  village?"  queried  the  man,  a 
little  surprised,  but  rashly  fancying  in  the  very  word  some 
hopeful  suggestion  of  wedding-clothes. 

"Not  my  own  dressmaking,"  said  Monny,  "  some 
body's  else, —  Clara  Macey's.  She  is  having  a  new  fall 
suit,  and  I  am  going  down  to  see  about  it  a  little." 

' '  I  supposed  dressmakers  required  their  customers  to 
come  to  them." 

"  No  :  it  is  only  the  very  superior  ones  who  can  take  on 
that  dignity.  Common  dressmakers,  like  myself,  work 
round  from  house  to  house." 

"Ah!  I  cannot  think  what  business,  what  friends, 
would  take  me  abroad  this  morning,"  said  the  lover 
reproachfully. 

"But  there  is  nothing  in  the  whole  range  of  a  man's 
duties  so  important  as  the  proper  looping  of  a  polonaise," 
declared  Monny.  The  foolish  little  words  —  she  was  mys 
teriously  eased  and  happy  at  finding  herself  able  to  say 
them,  just  as  of  old,  to  this  tremendous  being.  "  Clara 
and  her  mother,"  she  gossiped  on,  "have  cut  and  made 
the  suit  very  nicely  by  one  of  Mine.  Demorest's  patterns, 
which  they  sent  for  at  my  suggestion ;  and  now  I  am 
going  in  to  loop  up  the  drapery  of  the  costume,  give  the 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  381 

final  touches,  the  true  urban  fling.  Clara  is  going,  lo 
spend  the  winter  in  Boston,  you  SP«  " 

"  How  long  time  will  this  vanity  take?"  asked  Mr. 
Leigh. 

44  It  is  according  to  how  much  vanity  I  put  in.  Clara 
Macey  has  very  little  vanity  herself :  so  I  shall  put  in  a 
good  deal.  I  must  educate  her  by  her  clothes." 

4 '  Seriously,  my  darling,  how  long  are  you  going  to  be 
away  this  morning?  " 

"  Truly  not  much  more  than  an  hour." 

"  'Tis  twenty  years  till  then.  What  am  I  to  do  mean 
while?" 

"Oh!  you  can  go  back  to  some  of  those  deep,  deep 
thoughts  you  were  thinking  just  as  I  came  in.  If  you  sit 
apart  in  the  inner  court,  that  is  to  say  your  study,  wear 
ing  that  awful  majesty  of  looks,  when  "  — 

"  When  we  are  married,"  promptly  put  in  the  lover. 

"Then,  in  that  state  of  life,"  the  maid  went  on,  "it 
will  be  necessary  for  you  to  keep  by  you  a  kind  of  sceptre, 
after  the  style  of  King  Ahasuerus, — something  to  hold 
out,  you  know,  when  poor  little  trembling  Esther  comes 
in,  as  a  sign  that  she  may  speak,  or  must  be  put  to  death 
on  the  spot  for  her  intrusion.  Only  I  do  not  exactly  wish 
to  call  myself  Esther;  for  I  never  liked  her  —  hanging 
Hainan's  ten  sons  on  the  gallows  !  What  had  they  done? 
And  all  those  that  she  got  slain  on  the  fourteenth  day  of 
the  month  Adar  !  Do  you  believe  in  Esther?  " 

"I  am  thinking  of  that  sceptre,"  replied  the  minister, 
not  to  commit  himself  in  a  point  of  Old  Testament  criti 
cism  too  early  in  the  morning,  "  wondering  where  I  can 
obtain  such  an  article  in  a  republic." 

"You  might  substitute  a  cane:  or  no  —  you  do  not 
carry  a  cane ;  then  you  can  take  an  umbrella,  and  hold 
that  out." 


382  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"Open,  or  shut?" 

"  Well,  shut  it  could  signify  that  all  women  are  to  flee 
on  peril  of  their  lives  ;  open,  that  you  are  ready  to  endure 
for  a  while  the  rain  of  feminine  speech."  Still  the  foolish 
little  words :  she  went  on  saying  them  from  old  habit  of 
teasing  this  lover,  and  for  the  sweetness  of  seeing,  by 
certain  changing  lines  in  his  thoughtful  face,  that  she 
pleased,  that  she  was  dear  to  him,  even  in  her  nonsense ; 
yes,  she  had  the  assurance  that  he  loved  her  —  in  some 
moods.  But  in  his  other  moods,  in  that  mood  of  high 
contemplation  which  so  wrapped  him  a  few  moments  ago, 
—  how  would  she  look  to  him  then,  with  her  faults,  witli 
that  stor}7  wThich  she  must  tell  him  to-day?  With  this 
inward  question  the  playful  sparkle  died  out  of  her  eyes  ; 
and  she  said  in  a  tone  softly  wistful,  even  sad,  — 

4 'Those  thoughts  you  were  thinking  when  I  came  in  — 
they  were  far,  far  away  from  me,  I  am  sure  ;  far  from  all 
persons  ;  gone  into  the  world  of  pure  ideas,  where  there  is 
nothing  to  mar,  where  the  soul  does  have  its  desire  of 
perfection.  Tell  me,  Kenyon  Leigh,  what  nobler  world 
were  you  dreaming  of,  just,  just  as  I  came  in?  " 

"  Darling,"  replied  the  man  gently,  for  the  girl's  voice 
had  grown  strangely  tremulous,  "  see  who  is  the  dreamer 
now.  I  sat  here  thinking  only  of  Anemone  Rivers,  of 
this  real  world  where  she  is  :  surely  every  thought  I  had, 
began  and  ended  with  her." 

"And  between  the  beginning  and  the  ending  where 
did  the  thoughts  go?"  persisted  Monny,  —  "those  long, 
long,  parabolic  curves  they  must  have  been  making  when 
I  came  in !  Tell  me  this  once :  I  wish  to  see  into  the 
constriction  of  a  man's  mind,  to  know  how  he  can  be 
thinking  so  hard  of  a  person,  he  does  not  know  when  the 
person  has  come,  —  it  was  so  strange  to  me  that  you  did 
not  know  I  had  come  !  "  panted  the  girl,  who  had  missed 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  383 

in  h3r  lover  love's  keen  waiting,  when  every  nerve  listen! 
for  a  footfall,  and  little  guessed  through  what  involved 
solicitude  for  her  his  mind  had  strayed  out  into  those 
abstract  reflections  whose  abstract  quality  Monuy  had 
instinctively  recognized. 

Well  might  Kenyon  Leigh  feel  that  woman  brought  a 
complexity  into  existence ;  for,  at  this  whimsical  demand 
of  his  betrothed,  he  did  what  he  had  never  done  before  in 
his  life,  what  was  more  foreign  to  his  nature,  if  possible, 
than  downright  lying,  — he  quibbled.  He  told  the  actual 
things  which  had  passed  through  his  mind,  but  transposed 
and  changed  all  their  connections. 

''Thinking  of  the  one  person,  I  thought  of  —  other 
persons  —  suggested  by  her,"  he  began,  not  very  fluently. 
"Of  —  my  father,  for  instance.  It  crossed  my  mind,  as 
I  sat  here,  that  the  morning  mail  would  soon  be  in,  and 
that  I  might  hear  from  him  to-day  —  at  home.  He  has 
been  on  a  trip  to  the  Yosemite,  as  I  have  told  you, — 
started  just  before  I  arrived  from  Europe,  —  so  that  I 
have  not  seen  him  for  more  than  a  year.  I  naturally 
remember  to-day,  that  I  shall  have  the  pride  and  joy  of 
announcing  to  him  the  new  daughter  whom  I  hope  very 
soon"  — 

Partly  moved  by  some  bashful  little  impulse  to  hasten 
over  allusions  to  the  new  daughter,  Monny  interrupted 
here  with,  — 

"And  what  other  subjects  and  persons  were  in  your 
head?  You  are  to  tell  me  every  thing,  you  know.  I 
shall  see  by  your  eyes  when  you  have  been  truly  candid," 
said  the-  girl,  her  own  bright  eyebeams  mischievously  fol 
lowing  and  looking  into  her  lover's  optics,  whichever  way 
he  turned  his  glance.  And  partly  because  he  was  so 
awkward  in  any  role  but  the  truly  candid  one,  and  partly 
because  those  brown  eyes  looking  into  the  construction  of 


384  A  EEVEEEND  IDOL. 

ft  man's  mind  made  him  more  and  more  distractinglj 
helpless,  he  said,  in  his  absolute  belief  that  Monny  could 
never  even  have  heard  of  the  dissipated  young  Baltimo- 
rean,  who  had  lived  nearly  all  his  life  abroad,  — 

4 'Thinking  of  my  father,  and  of  the  last  time  I  saw 
him,  I  thought  of  a  person  he  was  concerned  with  just 
than,  —  a  very  unhopeful  young  man  whom  you  would 
not  care  to  hear  about,  — one  Carroll  De  Lancey." 

"Do  you  know  Aim?"  gasped  the  startled  girl,  with 
drawing  from  the  arm  which  encircled  her. 

"Why,  do  you  know  him?"  rejoined  Mr.  Leigh,  with 
more  composure  than  the  dismayed  Monny  had  shown  in 
her  sudden  outcry :  still  he  was  inwardly  surprised,  much 
surprised. 

"I  knew  him  once,"  said  the  girl,  "very  long  ago. 
His  sister  went  to  school  with  me  in  New  York  :  that  was 
how  he  came  to  be  of  my  acquaintance.  I  knew  him  only 
a  little, — very  little  indeed.  I  must  go  now,"  starting 
away  with  nervous  flurry.  ' '  I  promised  Clara  Macey 
that  I  would  be  there  very  soon  after  nine  o'clock ;  and 
it  is  nine  now.  Good-by !  "  And  she  was  gone  to  the 
door.  On  its  threshold  she  paused,  fluttered  uncertainly 
for  an  instant,  then  suddenly  flew  back  to  her  lover, 
where  he  sat  in  his  chair,  held  by  the  surprise  which  was 
still  on  him. 

4 '  You  will  not  think  I  am  going  to  be  so  prying  an  I 
tiresome  always,  —  asking  people  for  their  thoughts.  1 
hope  I  am  not  that  jealous  kind  of  tease.  It  was  a  silly 
whim  that  took  me  this  once,  because  —  because  I  was 
truly  a  little  afraid  when  I  came  in,  you  looked  so  far 
away.  And  I  had  things  to  say  to  you,"  she  almost 
sobbed,  —  "many  things.  I  am  coming  back  to  say  them 
now,  just  as  soon  as  I  can.  I  am  going  to  hurry.  Good- 
by,  dear  Kenyon  Leigh  1 " 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  885 

"Good-by,  my  darling,  my  one  darling,  whatever 
whims  take  you  !  "  tenderly  repeated  the  lover.  "  Good- 
by  !  "  And  this  time  Moiiny  really  went. 

Certainly  the  emphasis  with  which  she  had  declared  the 
slightness  of  her  acquaintance  with  a  young  man  whom 
Bhe  was  once  engaged  to  marry  had  a  very  misleading 
sound.  But  those  hurried  words  she  had  dropped,  in  the 
trepidation  of  finding  that  Mr.  Leigh  knew  Carroll  De 
Lancey,  and  knew  ill  of  him,  were  all  moved  by  the  thing 
that  came  uppermost  in  her  mind  ;  viz.,  the  plea  she  was 
going  to  make  for  herself,  that,  if  she  had  known  that 
young  man  better,  she  should  never  have  fancied  that  she 
loved  him.  And  the  way  in  which  she  put  this  truth  of 
her  brief  acquaintance  with  the  young  Southerner  she 
did  not  pause  to  consider.  It  was  one  of  those  unfortu 
nate  gaps  (unfortunate,  if  a  man  should  ever  come  to 
weigh  her  statements  in  the  balances  of  suspicion), 
which,  in  the  feminine  swiftness  of  her  thoughts,  were 
sometimes  left  between  the  thing  in  her  mind  and  the 
words  she  spoke  aloud. 

Her  lover  certainly  did  not  weigh  any  of  her  words 
with  suspicion  now.  He  put  down  all  her  startled  man 
ner  to  the  fact  that  he  himself  had  introduced  young  De 
Lancey's  name  with  a  stigma,  —  reason  enough  why  the 
sensitive  Monny  would  have  blushed  to  own  his  acquaint 
ance.  Nor  need  that  -acquaintance  have  so  surprised 
him,  he  reflected :  Carroll  De  Lancey,  as  a  young  man  of 
birth  and  fashion,  had  doubtless  been  decorous  enough  in 
his  outside  ways,  especially  a  few  years  back.  Alto 
gether,  he  returned  to  his  absorbing  thoughts  of  the  last 
hours,  about  hastening  his  marriage ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
these  there  was  presently  brought  to  the  house,  instead 
of  the  expected  letter  from  his  father,  a  telegram.  Judge 
Leigh  had  just  reached  home,  and  was  somewhat  ill,  not 


386  A   REVEREND  IDOL. 

dangerously,  but  hoped  his  son  Kenyon  was  at  liberty  to 
come  at  once  for  the  visit  that  it  had  been  understood 
he  should  make  to  his  home  when  his  father  arrived. 
Reflecting  now,  that,  the  sooner  he  set  out  on  this  filial 
journey,  the  sooner  he  should  be  back,  if  there  was  noth 
ing  serious  to  detain  him,  he  considered  his  telegram  but 
a  moment  before  deciding  that  he  must  take  the  next 
train  up  to  Boston,  which  there  was  only  just  time  to 
catch.  So,  leaving  a  farewell  line  for  Moimy,  Mr.  Leigh 
ran  by  the  shortest  way  to  the  station. 


A  BEVEBEND   IDOL.  887 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  lady  who  owned  so  efficient  a  spy  as  Tonson  did 
not  long  remain  in  ignorance  of  this  departure  of 
Mr.  Leigh,  and  she  decided  to  improve  his  fortunate  ab 
sence  by  making  an  entirely  new  move.  She  resolved  to 
call  on  Miss  Rivers. 

Accordingly,  about  three  P.M.  of  this  same  day,  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt  appeared  at  Mrs.  Doane's.  Monny  was 
in  her  studio ;  and,  the  lady  sending  up  with  her  card  a 
request  that  she  might  be  allowed  to  come  directly  up  to 
that  room,  Monny  concealed  her  picture  of  the  Knight- 
Templar,  and  then  received  the  visitor. 

44  You  have  not  called  on  me  yet,  Miss  Rivers/'  began 
the  latter,  sinking  gracefully  into  the  offered  chair.  "  But 
we  do  not  wait  for  our  minister's  wife  to  call  first :  so, 
hearing  that  you  are  to  stand  in  that  relation  to  us  of 
St.  Ancient's,  I  present  myself." 

At  this  rather  formidable  address  from  "us  of  St. 
Ancient's,"  the  maiden  blushed  a  little,  but  replied  quiet 
ly,  "As  I  understood  that  you  had  come  to  Lone  water  for 
retirement,  I  feared  calls  from  a  stranger,  like  myself, 
might  be  an  intrusion." 

The  widow,  perceiving  that  the  girl  was  not  going  to 
be  led  into  any  babble  about  her  lover,  rejoined  with  her 
most  charming  manner,  — 

"  You  see  that  you  were  too  modest.  I  have  desired 
the  pleasure  of  being  acquainted  both  with  yourself  and 
your  works.  I  had  heard  of  your  talent,  but  could  not 


388  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

imagine  seeing  a  gallery  like  this,"  she  said,  glancing 
around  the  room  crowded  with  pictures.  "  May  I  look  at 
all  these  lovely  things  ?"  she  asked.  And,  rising,  she 
made  a  queenly  progress  round  the  studio,  surveying 
Monny's  labors. 

How  did  this  woman  manage  to  impress  a  girl  like 
Moony  Rivers  as  scarcely  any  woman  had  ever  impressed 
her  before  ?  She  certainly  said  nothing  that  was  either 
brilliant  or  wise ;  and  the  politeness,  even  of  her  intro 
ductory  remarks  to  a  young  maiden  whose  engagement  was 
not  yet  made  public,  was  very  questionable  indeed,  as  the 
well-bred  Monny  would  have  felt  if  any  other  stranger 
had  so  addressed  her.  Yet,  as  she  swept  round  that  little 
chamber,  she  grew  a  more  and  more  exalted  being  to 
Monny  with  every  step.  One  sees  such  mysteriously 
superior  personages  among  those  who  have  long  breathed 
the  air  of  privilege.  Their  conversation  has  no  illumina 
tion  in  it,  either  as  to  the  life  which  now  is  or  that  which 
is  to  come :  often,  unlike  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  they  have 
no  claims  whatever  to  beauty,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
wherein  their  manners  are  really  fine ;  yet,  being  satu 
rated  with  self-consciousness,  of  some  refined  instead  of 
the  vulgar  sort,  they  impose  almost  their  own  estimate  of 
themselves  on  all  humbler  souls. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  not  only  her  great  beauty,  but 
an  eminent  capacity  for  taking  all  that  kind  of  social  polish 
which  seems  like  knowledge.  Even  her  comments  on  the 
pictures,  so  reticent,  so  quietly  dropped,  had  a  certain  ef 
fect  of  discrimination.  Her  own  role  in  the  world  seemed 
that  of  being  all  perfections,  —  a  dignity  quite  beyond  that 
of  doing,  pictures,  or  aught  else.  The  young  girl  did  nc  t 
think  this  cynically,  but  worshipfully,  as  this  imposing 
lady  reviewed  her  studio.  The  visitor  certainly  had  some 
manner  that  enabled  her  to  do  things  which  in  anothei 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  389 

would  have  seemed  altogether  presuming.  Thu  >  she  of 
fered  herself  as  a  subject  for  Monny's  pencil.  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt  had  very  often  been  a  sitter  to  artists,  and  her 
self-suggested  portrait  now  had  naturally  a  deeper  motive 
than  vanity.  She  wished  to  engage  Monny  in  a  special 
conversation,  and  took  this  means  to  prolong  her  stay  be 
yond  the  conventional  limits  of  a  call.  The  lady  brought 
about  her  proposal,  of  course,  by  the  due  degrees.  Monny 
was  delighted  to  have  the  opportunity  of  sketching  this 
beautiful  face,  and  Mrs.  Van Cortlaiidt  took  off  her  bonnet 
at  once.  The  young  artist  posed  her  subject ;  and,  when 
she  had  become  well  absorbed  with  her  sketch,  the  lady 
remarked  in  a  quietly  careless  way,  — 

"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Rivers,  that,  while  you  are  tracing 
my  face,  I  have  traced  yours  at  last?  I  had  a  strong 
impression  of  having  somewhere  seen  you  before,  when 
Mr.  Leigh  first  presented  you  to  me  in  the  little  church 
here ;  but  until  this  moment  I  could  not  recollect  where." 

"I  am  sure  I  had  never  seen  you  before,"  said  the 
unsuspecting  girl,  looking  up  with  her  frank  smile.  "  I 
could  never,  never  have  forgotten  your  face,  if  I  had  once 
seen  it.  I  remember  faces  always,"  added  Monny,  lest 
her  involuntary  tribute  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  beauty 
should  have  sounded  too  broad  a  flattery. 

"  And  I  also,  although  I  am  not  an  artist,  have  a  keen 
memory  for  faces,"  replied  the  lady.  "  Yours,  I  am  sure, 
I  saw  once  at  New  Orleans.  Did  you  not  spend  a  few 
days  at  the  St.  Charles  Hotel  there  five  years  ago  last 
spring?  " 

Monny  had  dropped  her  crayon  in  the  start  with 
which  she  heard  these  words.  Stooping  to  pick  it  up,  she 
ssiid  in  a  faint,  reluctant  voice,  "Yes,  I  was  in  New 
Orleans  —  at  that  time." 

"  I  was  sure  of  it.     But  stay  —  no,  you  could  not  have 


390  A  REVEREND  IDOL. 

been  that  yonng  girl,  after  all,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt, 
with  well-feigned  alternations  of  voice,  as  of  one  suddenly 
pressed  on  by  a  crowd  of  confused  recollections.  "Now 
that  I  remember,  she  was  married,  —  an  extremely  youth 
ful  bride :  still  she  was  married.  I  saw  her  not  only  in 
the  hotel,  but  in  the  cars,  on  her  way  to  New  Orleans. 
She  was  with  her  young  husband  then.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Carroll  De  Lancey  —  that  was  the  name:  I  remember  i.t 
well,  — an  old  Maryland  family.  Pray,  was  it  your  mar 
ried  sister?  Have  you  such  a  sister  so  near  your  own 
age,  and  marvellously  like  you?  " 

Monny  Rivers  could  not  lie ;  and  now,  although  it 
seemed  to  her  that  fate  could  not  have  ordained  a  more 
appalling  thing  than  that  she  must  confess  to  this  lady, 
of  all  beings,  her  girlhood's  wild  adventure,  she  lifted 
her  young  head,  and  said,  with  what  steadiness  she  could 
command,  as  she  laid  down  her  crayon,  — 

"I  never  had  a  sister,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  And  the 
person  —  you  remember  at  New  Orleans  —  as  Mrs.  Carroll 
De  Lancey  must  have  been  —  really  —  myself;  for  I 
went  there  under  that  name.  It  was  an  assumed  name. 
I  was  not  married." 

"  Assumed  name  ?  Not  married?"  repeated  the  lady 
in  a  voice  finely  modulated  to  express  unspeakable  aston 
ishment  held  in  check  by  politeness.  "  Pardon  me  ;  but, 
as  I  have  said,  I  saw  the  very  young  lady  called  Mrs. 
Carroll  De  Lancey  in  the  cars,  and  her  husband  with  her 
—  surely  her  husband  :  it  were  to  traduce  her  —  you  — 
any  young  lady,  to  suppose  that  travelling-companion  was 
not  her  husband.  I  do  not  understand.  I  must  beg  yon 
to  explain." 

The  entrapped  Monny  saw  no  escape :  she  m \ist  take 
up  the  cross  of  that  explaining.  Need  we  say  how  crusn- 
ing  it  was  to  her,  how  infinitely  more  scandalous  sounder* 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  391 

in  her  own  sensitive  ears  that  entangled  tale  as  she  re 
hearsed  it  to  the  stately  lady  representative  of  Mr.  Leigh's 
parish  than  when  comforting  aunt  Persy  was  the  hearer? 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  double  effort  was  to  convince  the 
impressible  girl,  that,  in  her  New-Orleans  journey,  she 
had  done  something  which  society  must  needs  regard  as 
perfectly  heinous,  but  which  she  individually  was  moved 
to  condone  and  cover  up,  through  regard  for  the  young 
betrothed  of  her  minister.  The  accomplished  woman  of 
the  world  was  quite  equal  to  this  work  :  the  art  which  she 
put  into  her  listening  to  Monny's  story  was  something 
entirely  beyond  the  reacli  of  the  vulgar.  No  rudest 
outcry  of  surprise  at  its  surprising  passages  could  have 
been  half  so  stingingly  felt  by  poor  Monny  as  the  slight 
lifting  of  those  beautifully  pencilled  brows,  the  shocked 
amaze  that  was  allowed  to  gleam  for  an  instant,  as  if 
involuntarily,  in  the  handsome  gray  eyes-,  to  be  quickly 
veiled  by  courtesy,  the  restrained  comment  and  question 
interspersed  from  time  to  time  without  any  air  of  curi 
osity,  yet  so  contrived  as  to  wring  the  last  item  of  all  that 
history  from  the  girl's  lips.  A  part  of  it  was  really  new 
to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  All  the  intrigue  about  the  will  she 
had  never  known  a  hint  of  before  ;  had  never  dreamed 
that  there  was  any  deeper  motive  for  the  masquerade  than 
the  madcap  whim  of  Kate  De  Lancey,  contriving  the 
disguise  as  a  convenient  one  for  two  young  girls  to  take  a 
long  journey  in  unattended. 

"Of  course  you  have  never  mentioned  a  word  of  this 
affair  to  Mr.  Leigh,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  at  last, 
when  she  was  satisfied  that  she  had  found  out  every  thing 
which  was  to  be  known. 

" 1  meant  to  have  told  him  to-day,"  replied  Monny 
quickly;  "  but  he  was  called  away  very  unexpectedly.  I 
had  an  errand  to  the  village,  and  when  I  came  back  he 


392  A   REVEREND    IDOL. 

was  gone.  I  shall  tell  him  all  about  it  just  as  soon  as 
he  returns." 

"Surely,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  with  her  softly 
shocked  manner,  "  you  cannot  repeat  such  a  story  as 
you  have  told  me  —  to  —  a  gentleman.  Pardon  me,  my 
dear  girl,  if  I  take  the  liberty,  since  you  have  no  mother, 
to  suggest  to  you  that  Mr.  Leigh  is  a  very  fastidious 
raan  —  all  men  are  so  about  what  a  young  girl  says  and 
cloes." 

The  present  young  girl  was  one  who  could  be  imposed 
on  by  this  miserable  prudery  of  advice,  as  the  widow  had 
well  discerned  in  the  close  study  which  this  afternoon's 
long  interview  had  enabled  her  to  make  of  her  victim. 
Monny  colored  painfully  at  being  thus  supposed  to  need 
reminders  to  modesty  ;  then  she  broke  out,  — 

"  But  I  felt  I  must  tell  him,  however  trying  it  was.  I 
do  not  like  to  have  secrets  from  Mr.  Leigh.  It  haunts  me 
all  the  time.  I  have  no  peace." 

"  You  have  not  reflected,  I  see,  that  this  easing  of  your 
own  mind  may  be  at  the  cost  of  bringing  Mr.  Leigh  into 
an  extremely  painful  perplexity.  Your  secret  is  one 
which  a  man  might  feel  that  honor  forbade  him  to  keep." 

Monny  looked  up  blankly  at  these  words. 

u  I  mean,"  explained  the  widow,  "  all  the  deceit  prac 
tised  by  your  school-friend  to  get  that  will  made  in  favor 
of  herself  and  the  brother  whom  you  expected  to  marry. 
Such  a  fraud  was  a  robbery  of  the  nearer  heirs,  which  a 
man  like  Mr.  Leigh  might  feel  himself  bound  to  see 
rectified,  even  at  this  late  day.  You  have  not  thought  of 
all  this?" 

"Oh,  no!"  murmured  Monny,  growing  pale  with  the 
utterly  new  dismay  which  these  artful  suggestions  brought 
her. 

"  The  property  was  divided  between  brother  and  sister,  I 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  393 

understand,"  quietly  pursued  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  '  Did 
Miss  DC  Lancey  leave  any  heirs?  " 

"  Her  baby.  And  the  Italian  nobleman  whom  Kate 
married,  although  he  was  in  brilliant  position,  was  not 
very  rich,  I  believe.  It  would  be  too  cruel  —  I  could  not 
bei  r  to  be  instrumental  in  such  a  thing  —  to  take  away 
the  inheritance  of  that  child,  —  Kate's  child.  Surely  that 
would  be  the  robbery  now  ;  for  the  Regdons,  Gen.  War 
wick's  nearest  heirs,  were  very  rich  themselves,  Kat~ 
said,  and  had  no  natural  claim  on  him  at  all,  and  he  did 
not  intend  them  to  touch  his  money.  Oh  !  I  cannot  believe 
Mr.  Leigh  would  think  it  necessary  to  move  in  such  a 
tangled  affair,  to  go  back  of  that  will,  when  Gen.  War 
wick  cannot  come  out  of  his  grave  now  to  make  another." 

"  Precisely  because  it  is  so  tangled  an  affair,"  smoothly 
replied  the  artful  woman,  "  it  should  not,  in  my  judgment, 
be  imparted  to  a  man.  Men  like  to  move,  and  are  ex 
pected  to  move,  on  straight  lines.  A  woman  is  not  so 
rigorously  held  to  account  —  in  business  matters.  Thus 
the  world  might,  perhaps,  grant  that  a  young  woman,  a 
girl  so  juvenile  as  you  were  when  this  deed  was  done,  did 
not  realize  all  the  grave  thing  it  is  to  tamper  with  property 
interests.  But  a  man  would  be  allowed  no  such  ignorance 
of  affairs  ;  and  if  he  were  made  acquainted  with  such  an 
act,  however  long  after,  he  might  feel  himself  a  kind  of 
accomplice  in  the  fraud,  if  he  did  not  reveal  it.  liein,  a 
wo:n:in  myself,  I  a-iive  with  you,  that  the  wrong  in  the 
making  of  that  will  was  one  of  those  wrongs  which  w<,uM 
probably  become  a  worse  wrong  by  any  attempt  to  right  it 
now.  Clearly,  so  long  as  Mr.  Leigh  is  left  in  ignorance 
of  the"  affair,  he  has  no  duty  about  it  whatever.  Why, 
then,  trouble  him  with  this  painful  knowledge?" 

The  girl  sat  for  a  moment  in  stark  bewilderment  at  this 
8\>eeioiis  reasoning ;  then  she  made  a  small  clutch  after 
her  common  sense  once  more.  Sho  began  slowly,  — 


394  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

1  'It  is  something  I  have  never  thought  of  before,  that 
there  could  be  two  kinds  of  right,  —  one  for  a  man,  and 
another  for  a  woman.  If  it  is  so,  Mrs.  Bingham.  who 
knew  all  about  Kate's  affair,  is  the  one  to  tell  me  what  I 
should  do.  I  will  write  and  ask  her.  I  have  thought  a 
little  of  writing  her  before,  for  myself ;  but  now  there 
is  a  new  cause,  I  will  write  instantly.  You  say  she  is  in 
Europe  :  do  you  know  just  where  she  is?  " 

"  I  have  no  idea,"  replied  the  widow  evasively. 

"  But  surely,"  urged  Monny  in  her  eagerness,  "  a  lady 
so  distinguished  in  society  as  Mrs.  Bingham — there  must 
be  those  in  New  York  who  know  her  present  address. 
Would  you  do  me  the  great  kindness  to  help  me  a  little 
in  this  —  to  help  me  find  out  where  she  can  be  written 
to?" 

"  I  will  try  :  leave  all  that  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Cert- 
land,  who,  if  this  correspondence  was  to  be,  determined 
to  keep  it  in  her  own  hands. 

"Thank  you  very  much  indeed,"  said  Monny  warmly. 

4 'And  let  me  suggest  to  you,"  continued  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt,  "that  there  are  other  much  more  important 
inquiries  for  you  to  make  immediately.  That  trunk  which 
you  mentioned,  the  trunk  which  you  lost  in  Jackson," 
said  the  widow,  who  had  extracted  from  Monny  this  after 
noon  all  the  minutiae  of  her  Southern  journey,  and  seized 
at  once  on  the  incident  of  the  lost  trunk  as  something 
which  she  could  weave  usefully  into  her  schemes,  —  "  you 
say  it  was  left  behind  on  the  depot  platform?  " 

"Yes,  it  was  of  so  little  consequence,"  replied  Monny. 

"It  is  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  you  that  it  should 
not  fall  :'nto  other  hands,"  answered  the  widow  with  the 
gravest  e  nphasis.  "  After  a  certain  lapse  of  time  (once 
in  seven  years  is,  I  believe,  the  stated  period)  all  bag- 
thus  abandoned  at  depots,  and  never  claimed,  is  set 


A    KEVEUEND    IDOL.  395 

op  at  public  auction,  and  sold.  After  a  trunk  is  sold  in 
that  way,  it  is  opened,  of  course,  by  the  buyer.  Are 
there  not -things  in  your  trunk  which  would  identify  it, 
your  name,  for  instance?" 

"  Why,  yes,  it  may  be.  There  was  a  little  underclothing 
in  the  trunk,  I  believe,  —  things  that  would  be  marked,  of 
course.  Oh,  yes  !  my  name  was  probably  there,"  repeated 
Mouny  in  a  bewildered  way,  beginning  to  feel  as  if  de 
tectives  were  already  on  her  track,  with  the  formidable 
tone  which  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  assumed  in  her  talk 
about  the  will,  and  now  about  the  lost  trunk. 

44  The  trunk  may  still  be  locked  up  in  the  Jackson  depot, 
since  it  is  but  five  years  since  it  was  left  there,"  said  the 
widow.  u  I  advise  you  to  send  on  at  once,  and  ascertain. 
Send  a  full  description  of  the  trunk  and  its  contents,  and, 
if  it  is  there,  you  cannot  fail  to  identify  it.  Then,  of 
course,  as  soon  as  the  depot  officials  are  satisfied  that 
you  are  the  owner,  they  will  send  it  right  on  wherever  you 
direct.  I  will  help  you  arrange  all  the  details  of  this. 
Perhaps  we  had  better  inquire  by  letter  first,  and  then  use 
the  telegraph  to  expedite  matters." 

44  You  are  very  good,"  murmured  Monny. 

4'I  feel  that  such  a  tell-tale  piece  of  property  as  that 
trunk,  with  a  masculine  suit  of  clothes  in  it,  ought  to  be 
got  safely  back  into  your  own  possession:  otherwise  no 
one  knows  into  whose  hands  it  might  eventually  fall,  to 
be  traced  to  you,  and  stir  up  strange  stories.  A  clergy 
man's  wife  cannot  be  too  careful  of  her  reputation,"  said 
the  mentor,  with  an  emphasis  which  tingled  to  Mouny's 
very  soul.  "  It  will  be  desirable  for  me  to  see  you  again 
scon,"  added  the  visitor,  rising  at  last  to  go.  The  sketch 
of  her  head  had,  of  course,  been  long  ago  dropped  in  the 
agitating  talk  into  whL-h  the  artist  had  IKJOII  led.  "  Where 
shall  we  meet?  You  take  long  walks  on  the  seashore,  I 
hear.  Who  accompanies  you?  " 


396  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  I  go  alone  with  Duke  George." 

The  lady  made  a  movement  of  her  brows,  as  if  asking 
what  manner  of  Cape-Cod  nobleman  that  might  be. 

"He  is  my  dog,"  explained  Monny.  "I  mean  aunt 
Persy's  dog.  He  really  belongs  to  the  house  ;  but  he 
seems  mine,  because  he  always  goes  about  with  me." 

4 'Is  —  the  keeper  of  this  house  your  relative?"  asked 
the  visitor,  again  with  her  politely  shocked  maitner. 

"  Mrs.  Doane  ?  —  oh,  no  !  I  formed  the  habit  of  calling 
her  aunt  when  I  was  a  child,  and  used  to  come  here  with 
my  nurse,"  said  Monny,  feeling  that  the  lady  of  St. 
Ancient's  was  thinking  her  very  pitiably  a  child  still, 
falling  into  this  strange  rusticity  of  quoting  the  names 
of  the  household,  human  and  canine,  as  if  all  the  world 
must  needs  know  them. 

In  much  more  serious  ways  than  these  did  this  dis 
composing  visitor  drive  Monny  completely  out  of  herself, 
skilfully  managing  through  all  this  long  interview  to  make 
herself  at  once  dreaded  and  relied  on  by  the  young  girl, 
who  was  easily  led  to  exaggerate  into  a  monstrous  offence 
and  disgrace  that  fact  in  her  life  of  having  worn  male 
attire.  For,  like  all  thoroughly  modest  women,  Monny 
was  thoroughly  conventional  in  every  thing  that  concerned 
the  proprieties  of  her  sex.  It  is  doubtful,  by  the  way, 
whether  the  best  girls  are  at  all  apt  to  go  back  of  the 
convention  in  these  things  to  inquire  its  why  and  where 
fore, —  extremely  doubtful  if  it  is  really  a  sign  of  the 
most  innocent  mind  among  maidens  to  be  much  given  to 
original  views  and  positions  as  to  what  is  modest  or  im 
modest  in  social  observances.  Blindly,  and  with  innocent 
thoughtlessness,  a  young  girl  dances  such  dances,  for  in 
stance,  and  wears  such  dresses  to  dance  in,  as  she  sees 
other  reputable  ladies  do :  usage,  the  practice  of  the  best 
persons,  is  to  her  the  sole  law  in  these  matters,  within 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  397 

which  she  is  perfectly  unconscious  and  serene,  outside 
of  which  she  has  a  horror  to  be  found.  So,  while  a  more 
forward-thinking  young  woman  might  have  re-assured 
herself  by  reflecting  that  there  was  but  small  difference 
between  a  modern  pull-back  and  those  cadet's  trousers, 
Monny,  who  could  wear  the  former,  while  it  was  the 
fashion,  without  a  thought  of  impropriety,  had  seen  her 
self  in  the  latter,  to  use  her  own  words,  as  a  character  to 
be  taken  up  by  the  police.  And  a  tortaring  sense  that 
Mr.  Leigh's  lady  parishioner  thought  her,  at  the  best,  a 
very  hoidenish,  underbred  girl,  made  Monny  submit  her 
self  with  the  more  passive  obedience  to  whatever  course 
of  proceeding  the  widow  marked  out  for  her. 

The  parish  had  got  hold  of  the  minister's  wife,  even 
before  she  bore  his  name. 


398  A  BEVEREND   IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MR.  LEIGH  returned  to  the  Cape  after  a  four-days- 
absence,  having  left  Judge  Leigh  recovering  from 
his  illness,  and  well  rejoiced  to  learn  the  intended  mar 
riage  of  his  only  yet  uu wedded  son. 

It  was  past  sunset  when  the  eager  traveller  came  riding 
over  the  familiar  stage-road  from  the  village  station  to 
Mrs.  Doane's  ;  and,  lo  !  he  met  Monny  on  the  way.  Jump 
ing  from  the  vehicle  to  greet  the  surprised  girl  (she  did 
not  expect  him  until  the  morrow) ,  he  bade  the  driver  go 
on  to  Mrs.  Doane's  with  only  his  portmanteau,  perceiving 
that  Monny  was  not  inclined  to  step  into  the  stage,  and 
ride  home  with  him. 

"  I  am  so  surprised  at  your  coming  to-night !  "  repeated 
the  girl,  with  some  strange  fluttering.  "  I  did  not  imagine 
meeting  you  on  the  stage.  I  had  started  for  the  village, 
and" —  she  faltered,  "I  really  think  I  must  go  on.  I 
had  a  most  important  errand.'* 

44  Then  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  the  lover,  turning 
promptly  about. 

u  Oh,  no  !  I  had  started  alone,  and  I  can  go  on  so  just 
as  well.  You  must  be  tired." 

4 '  Tired  ?  How  tired  must  a  man  be  to  allow  the  dearest 
being  to  go  over  this  desolate  road  alone  in  the  gloaming?  " 

"No,  no,  please!  I  had  rather  you  would  not  go." 
urged  Monny  in  a  tone  of  entreaty  that  there  was  no  mis 
taking.  "You  know  it  has  been  a  little  understood  that 
we  should  not  walk  about  together  yet  in  public.  And 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  399 

my  errand  is  to  your  friend  Mrs.  Van  CorLandt.  She 
has  called  on  me  since  you  have  been  away :  she  shows 
me  much  friendship." 

Mr.  Leigh  stood  astounded  :  then  fiis  amaze  began  tc 
clear  a  little,  through  a  rapid  inward  process  of  conjec 
ture  and  conclusion ;  and  the  end  of  it  all  was  that  he 
said  quietly,  — 

44  Go  on,  then:  I  will  wait  for  you  here.  Surely  I 
shall  wait  for  you,  and  come  to  meet  you.  Where  is  the 
dog?"  he  asked,  looking  round,  and  missing  Mouny's 
invariable  protector. 

"I  left  him  at  home  to-night.  I  thought  I  had  better 
not  have  great  dogs  with  me,  calling  on  —  ladies  who 
have  lived  so  much  in  Europe,"  said  poor  Monny,  who 
had  left  Duke  George  behind,  from  a  feeling  that  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlandt  considered  it  a  piece  of  Bohemian  wildness 
for  her  to  go  about  thus  accompanied. 

The  inevitable  thought  that  "ladies  who  had  lived  so 
much  in  Europe  ' '  would  think  it  far  queerer  for  a  girl  to 
be  taking  lonely  evening  walks  without  any  escort  at  all, 
naturally  crossed  Mr.  Leigh's  mind  ;  but  of  course  he  did 
not  speak  it  aloud. 

44  The  sun  sets  so  deceivingly  quick  now,  I  did  not 
think  it  was  quite  so  late,"  said  the  girl  apologetically, 
perceiving  that  Mr.  Leigh  was  not  altogether  satisfied  ; 
then  she  hurried  swiftly  away. 

From  the  little  group  of  pine-trees  where  they  had 
halted  (it  was  at  a  point  about  two-thirds  of  the  way 
from  Mrs.  Doane's  house  to  the  village),  the  man  stood 
looking  after  the  maiden  with  a  sense  that  it  was  a  most 
extraordinary  contingency  that  he  should  be  forced  to 
stand  helpless  in  the  highway,  and  see  his  darling  walk 
straight  t3  a  woman  who  had  believed  such  monstrous 
things  of  her.  True,  when  the  first  amaze  with  which  he 


400  A  REVEKEND   IDOL. 

had  heard  where  Monny  was  going  was  past,  he  felt  that 
this  mysterious  visit  of  hers  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  ought 
to  be  pleasing  to  him.  Evidently  the  lady  had  become 
disabused  of  her  gross  error,  either  through  his  own  state 
ment,  or  something  which  she  had  learned  ;  and  she  had 
hastened  to  atone  for  her  offence  by  calling  on  Monny, 
and,  as  it  appeared,  establishing  intimacy  at  once.  In  this 
idea  he  had  allowed  the  maiden  to  go  on  :  still  the  situa 
tion  disturbed  him  ;  and  he  soon  emerged  from  the  belt  of 
pine-trees  to  keep  the  girlish  figure  in  sight  as  it  rose  and 
sank,  like  a  little  shallop  on  a  wave,  with  the  undulations 
of  the  way.  Then,  as  it  grew  to  a  nebulous  shade  in  the 
twilight,  and  vanished  in  the  hollow  where  lay  the  village, 
he  walked  on  forthwith  to  do  his  waiting  at  the  nearest 
point.  Just  outside  the  village  he  halted,  lingering  about 
there :  over  the  endless  stretching  levels  of  sand  and  sea 
the  wind  began  to  boom  desolately ;  a  gray  night  was 
setting  in,  and  he  could  not  disguise  from  himself  that 
some  chill  had  fallen  on  the  meeting  he  had  been  antici 
pating  all  clay  over  so  many  rolling  miles.  Meanwhile 
Monny  arrived  at  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's. 

"You  sent  for  me,  I  am  here,"  said  the  girl. 

"Yes,  another  telegram  has  just  come  through  from 
Jackson,  about  the  trunk.  They  have  found  it  at  last ; 
and  I  sent  for  you,  that  you  might  forward  an  order  for 
it  in  your  own  name.  Sit  right  down  here  and  write  the 
telegram,  and  I  will  see  it  sent  to  the  office." 

' '  Is  there  no  letter  from  New  York  yet  about  Mrs. 
Bingham's  European  address?"  asked  Monny,  always 
more  anxious  about  this  matter  than  about  the  lost  trunk. 

"No:  I  do  not  learn  that  yet,"  replied  the  widow, 
who  had  no  idea  of  learning  at  all  where  Mrs.  Bingham 
was.  "When  is  Mr.  Leigh  expected?"  she  added. 

"  Oh  !  he  has  just  come.    He  met  me  on  the  way  here." 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  401 

"  And  did  you  tell  him  where  you  were  going?"  cried 
the  widow. 

"Why,  certainly.  I  did  not  dare  go  hack,  lest  there 
was  some  very  important  reason  for  you  to  see  me.  Oh, 
it  is  all  very  distressing !  " 

u  There  was  an  important  reason/'  replied  the  intriguer, 
whose  first  alarm  at  Monny's  accidental  meeting  with 
Mr.  Leigh  subsided  in  the  second  thought,  that,  after  all, 
this  accident  was  not  an  unfortunate  one  for  her  schemes. 
"It  is  most  necessary  for  that  telegram  to  go  immedi 
ately,  and  in  your  own  name,  for  the  trunk."  And 
Monny  wrote  the  despatch  to  the  plotter's  dictation. 
Then  the  latter  lot  her  victim  go,  trusting  for  herself  to 
that  fortune  which  favors  the  bold. 

Only  a  bold  and  deeply-laid  plot,  in  truth,  could  have 
prevented  these  lovers  from  coming  to  confidence.  Even 
to-night,  when  Monny  came  outside  the  village  to  lind 
Mr.  Leigh  waiting  for  her  there  in  the  falling  darkness, 
the  very  weight  on  her  3Touug  heart,  an  indefeasible  rising 
sense  that  he  was  her  true  refuge,  made  her  run  with  such 
impetuous  abandon  into  his  arms,  he  thought  it  a  puerility 
in  himself  to  have  fancied  something  strange  and  disap 
pointing  in  his  first  reception. 

What  need  to  chronicle  in  detail  the  days  that  followed  ? 
It  was  always  the  same  history,  —  alternations  of  resei-ve 
ana  effusion,  of  melancholy,  and  anon  a  forced,  wild 
gayety,  as  the  troubled  girl  perceived  that  her  depression 
of  spirits  weighed  on  her  lover.  She  flew  from  one  to 
another  of  these  moods  with  some  feverish  unrest  utterly 
unlike  the  sweet  beguiling  of  her  old  changeful  ways; 
for  be  sure  that  the  girl  "  whom  nobody  ever  got  tired  of, 
morning,  noon,  nor  night,"  did  not  normally  diffuse  that 
sense  of  commotion  which  make*.*  some  iridescent  feminine 
natures,  for  all  their  charm,  a  little  fatiguing  at  last  in 
too  intimate  intercourse. 


402  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

No,  Monny's  lover  recognized  well  that  she  was  in 
some  unwonted  state.  He  supposed  it  a  matter  of  nerves  ; 
and  certainly,  for  a  man  who  had  reached  thirty-four  all 
inexperienced  in  feminine  nerves,  he  had  now  a  tolerably 
severe  initiation. 

Now,  while  affairs  were  hanging  thus,  and  Monny  still 
putting  off  with  peculiar  evasion  the  fixing  of  her  mir- 
riage-day,  although  the  time  for  Mr.  Leigh's  permanent 
departure  from  the  Cape  was  close  at  hand,  he  was  pass 
ing,  one  afternoon,  through  the  family  sitting-room,  and 
stopped  to  turn  over  a  file  of  his  newspapers  (strewn  on 
a  table,  for  Mrs.  Doane's  reading),  to  see  if  his  "  New- 
York  Times"  of  four  days  back  might  still  be  there. 
As  it  was  understood  that  the  dailies  might  be  drawn  on 
for  fire-kindling  before  they  reached  that  age,  the  desired 
journal  had  disappeared  ;  and  Monny  stepped  out  into  the 
kitchen  to  see  if,  by  chance,  it  might  still  be  extant  in 
the  waste-box. 

"It  has  gone  up  the  chimney,"  she  said,  returning. 
"Did  you  wish  to  see  it  for  something  important?" 

"To.  look  over  again  the  list  of  'The  Etolia's '  pas 
sengers.  It  is  not  given  in  full  in  the  later  papers. 
Friends  of  mine,  Gen.  Bingham  and  his  family,  were  on 
that  steamer."  Mr.  Leigh  was  about  to  say  that  lie 
wished  to  see  if  any  other  of  his  friends  were  there  ;  but 
Monny  cried  out  breathlessly,  "The  Binghams  on  that 
steamer  ?  —  homeward  bound  ?  When  is  it  due  ?  " 

"It  was  due  several  days  before  I  left  New  York," 
replied  Mr.  Leigh,  rather  puzzled  by  Monny's  tone, 
which,  though  agitated,  had  an  expression  of  relief  in  it 
which  seemed  smgular  to  him  ;  for  the  Atlantic  steamer 
in  question  was  so  late,  that  serious  fears  had  begun  to 
be  entertained  for  its  safety.  Mr.  Leigh  assumed  that 
Monny  knew  this,  as  the  papers  every  day  now  made  some 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  403 

reference  to  the  missing  ship.  But  the  girl  had  been  so 
absorbed  by  her  personal  anxieties,  she  had  scarce  looked 
in  the  papers  for  several  days  past,  and  was  all  unaware 
of  this  alarm  about  "The  Etolia."  And  now,  as  Jenny 
Ilines  came  running  in  from  the  kitchen  with  a  torn  page 
or  two  of  the  destroyed  journal,  which  she  had  chanced 
to  use  for  wrapping-paper,  Monny  slipped  out  of  the 
room  and  up-stairs,  while  Mr.  Leigh  was  looking  over 
the  rescued  fragment  of  newspaper,  where  was  found  the 
shipping-news  and  a  list  of  "The  Etolia's  "  passengers. 
Not  finding  Monny  when  he  glanced  up  from  this  reading, 
he  went  to  his  study,  where  he  presently  heard  the  girl's 
door  cautiously  opened,  her  soft,  swift  flight  down  the 
stairs  ;  and  anon,  from  his  window,  he  saw  her  flitting 
away  like  the  wind,  in  the  direction  of  the  village. 

Her  manner  of  leaving  the  house  so  plainly  denoted  a 
wish  to  be  unobserved,  the  lover  made  no  signal  to  her ; 
but  musing  afresh  on  the  impracticable  state  into  which 
his  betrothed  had  fallen,  when  a  half -hour  or  so  had 
passed,  he  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  out  by  the  same  road 
which  she  had  taken.  Not  wishing  to  pursue  Monny 
quite  into  the  village,  remembering  how  shy  she  was  of 
his  escort  there  the  night  of  his  return,  he  loitered  along 
the  way,  making  little  excursions  into  the  waste  on  either 
side  the  road,  to  pass  the  time  till  she  should  appear. 

Rambling  thus,  his  feet  making  no  echo  in  the  soft, 
sliding  sand,  he  came  to  o  spot  some  rods  from  the  high 
way,  where  he  was  startled  to  hear  feminine  voices  close 
by,  those  of  Monny  and  —  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt !  They 
ivere  sitting  on  the  ground,  behind  a  dense  little  clump  of 
shrub-oaks,  over  whose  roots  and  stems  yie  blowing  sand 
bad  curiously  heaped  itself  and  hardened,  forming  on  one 
Bide  quite  a  solid  wall  several  feet  high.  Mr.  Leigh  knew 
the  place  well.  He  stood  astonished  at  finding  these  two 


404  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

together  again,  feeling  that  Mrs.  Van  Cortlaiidt  was  very 
remiss  in  not  having  written  him  a  straight  apology,  a 
square  taking-back  of  all  her  charges  against  Monny,  in 
stead  of  familiarizing  with  her  in  this  private  way.  He 
did  not  like  it ;  and,  with  an  instinctive  impulse  to  take 
before  the  widow's  eyes  the  attitude  of  Monny's  betrothed, 
he  was  about  to  step  forward,  when  some  words  from 
the  girl's  own  lips  transfixed  him.  She  was  speaking. in 
reply  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.  What  the  latter  had  said 
was  not  audible  ;  but  Monny's  soft  voice  had  some  pene 
trating  quality  which  made  her  speech  so  distinct,  Mr. 
Leigh  could  but  hear. 

"Mrs.  Bingham  was  the  only  living  being  who  knew 
all  about  the  affair  from  beginning  to  end.  She  knew 
that  I  was  engaged  to  marry  him,  and  that  every  thing 
came  from  that." 

The  desert  reeled  around  the  man  as  he  heard  these 
words ;  then,  as  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  voice  went  indis 
tinctly  murmuring  on  again,  he  was  forced  to  collect  him 
self  so  far  as  to  know  that  this  was  the  last  place  on 
earth  for  him  to  ask  explanation  of  Monny  in,  and  to 
retreat  unobserved. 

The  two  women,  all  unaware  of  the  chance  listener 
who  had  been  so  near,  soon  rose  up  from  the  ground 
where  they  had  sat  clown  in  their  talk,  and  moved  slowly 
on  towarls  the  highway,  which  they  had  been  approaching 
by  a  cross-cut  straight  over  the  sandy  wastes  from  Capt. 
Gawthrop's  ;  for  Monny's  sudden  run  to  the  village  had 
been  to  carry  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  who  had  assumed 
the  personal  charge  of  sending  all  such  letters,  a  letter 
which  she  had  hastened  to  write  to  Mrs.  Bingham  so  soon 
as  she  caught  from  Mr.  Leigh's  remarks  the  gl-id  news 
that  the  lady  was  on  a  steamer  already  due  at  New  York. 
The  intriguer's  task  was  simplifying  wonderfully  ;  for  sho 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  405 

knew,  and  perceived  with  joy,  that  Monny  did  not  yet 
know  that  "The  Etolia,"  with  Mrs.  Bingham  on  board, 
was  very  possibly  lost  at  sea.  She  walked  part  of  the 
way  home  with  the  girl,  exerting  herself  to  the  utmost  to 
appear  Monny's  best  friend,  quite  abstracting  from  her 
manner  to-night  all  that  element  of  criticism  which  she 
had  thought  expedient  to  mingle  in  it  at  various  times 
before. 

Fate  had  marvellously  favored  this  plotting  woman 
from  the  beginning,  but  in  nothing  more  than  in  giving 
her  just  such  types  of  character  to  dupe  as  the  great 
preacher  and  the  artist-girl.  The  proverbial  simplicity 
with  which  the  gifted  fall  into  traps  which  the  average 
mortal  would  instantly  suspect,  does  not  necessarily  imply 
that  the  former  are  such  dullards  in  human  nature.  But 
an  habitual  pre-occupation  of  the  mind  with  other  than 
personal  objects  probably  does  not  tend  to  develop  a 
certain  small  kind  of  acuteness  in  detecting  character, 
which  may  far  more  abound  in  people  with  whom  even 
that  involuntary  mental  current  which  runs  on  all  day  in 
the  head,  is  chiefly  concerned  with  persons  and  things 
visible.  And  a  man  like  Mr.  Leigh,  whom  man  or  woman 
could  not  approach  with  detracting  little  gossip  about 
his  friends  or  acquaintances,  undoubtedly  loses  —  such 
as  the  loss  is  —  some  of  those  side-lights  upon  character 
which  gossip  throws.  In  short,  the  minister  had  never 
discerned  aught  in  the  widow  to  enable  him  even  to  im 
agine  that  she  was  capable  of  playing  a  false  part :  still 
less  could  the  trusting  Monny  imagine  this  of  the  beauti 
ful  woman  whom  she  saw  always  as  standing  herself  in 
the  shadow  of  an  irremediable  woe,  and  sacredly  moved, 
by  the  memory  of  her  own  lost  mate,  to  help  a  girl  in  a 
strange  embarrassment  about  a  lover. 

Nevertheless,  this  very  night,  when  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt 


406  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

had  left  her,  and  the  girl  came  alone  to  that  little  belt  of 
pine-trees  by  the  roadway,  where  she  had  met  Mr.  Leigh 
on  his  return  to  the  Cape  a  few  nights  before,  a  singu 
lar  re-action  came  over  her.  It  is  always  possible  that 
bare  instinct  will  suddenly  rescue  a  thoroughly  truth 
ful  nature  from  whatever  snares  of  false  reasoning  have 
been  cast  around  it,  and  thus  it  was  now  with  Monny. 
The  experience  was  so  new,  so  hateful,  to  her,  of  having 
tilings  to  hide,  secrets  which  obliged  her  to  steal  clan 
destinely  out  of  the  house  where  her  lover  was,  and  think 
how  she  could  creep  back  into  it  again  unobserved  by 
him,  —  the  mere  situation  was  so  intolerable,  she  suddenly 
rose  up  against  it  as  something  which  she  could  not  bear 
another  day.  And  with  this  strong  uprising  of  her  heart 
came  a  new  illumination  to  her  brain.  All  at  once,  lilfe 
a  discovery,  the  idea  flashed  on  her,  that  she  could  tell 
Mr.  Leigh  the  secret  which  so  burdened  her,  separate 
from  that  part  of  it  which  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  so 
frightened  her  from  telling;  viz.,  Kate  De  Lancey's 
operations  about  Gen.  Warwick's  will. 

" 1  will  tell  him  every  thing  else,"  she  said  to  herself,  — 
"  how  I  was  engaged  to  Carroll  De  Lancey,  and  just  how 
I  went  with  Kate  to  New  Orleans,  and  about  the  lost 
trunk  I  have  sent  for :  whatever  shame  and  misery  it  is 
to  me  to  confess  it  all,  this  hiding  and  concealing  is  a 
worse  misery.  And  I  will  tell  him  truly  that  there  is 
something  more  which  I  cannot  tell  him  ;  that  is,  the 
reason  why  Kate  went  to  New  Orleans  dressed  as  a  man. 
I  will  tell  Mr.  Leigh  I  cannot  explain  that  till  I  have  seen 
Mrs.  Bingham,  and  know  if  I  have  a  right  to  tell  it,  even 
to  him.  Mr.  Leigh  would  never  pry  in  such  a  case :  he 
would  not  be  like  me,  that  silly,  silly  morning,  when  I 
asked  him  for  his  thoughts.  But  the  whole  story  that 
concerns  myself  I  will  tell  him  from  beginning  to  end : 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  407 

whatever  they  all  say,  I  will  tell  him,  I  will."  And  with 
a  force  of  resolve  which  she  had  never  had  before  she  flew 
over  the  homeward  way. 

Arrived  at  the  house,  she  was  hurrying  over  the  stairs, 
going  straight  for  Mr.  Leigh's  study,  when  the  door  of 
that  study  opened,  and  he  Spoke  from  its  threshold, 
i4Monny,  I  wish  to  see  you  in  this  room  immediately." 

The  mere  word  "Mouny,"  aside  from  the  strange  tone 
of  command  in  which  it  was  uttered,  sent  the  warm  blood 
back  upon  the  girl's  heart.  Never  had  Mr.  Leigh  called 
her  by  that  name  before ;  for,  so  soon  as  he  had  a  right  to 
call  her  by  any  name  more  familiar  than  Miss  Rivers,  he 
had  begun  to  call  her  by  that  diminutive  of  his  own  inven 
tion,  Ana.  And  now,  as  she  passed  through  the  study- 
door,  he  closed  it  instantly  behind  her,  demanding  still,  in 
that  strange  voice  which  she  seemed  not  to  know,  — 

4 'Were  you  ever  engaged  to  marry  any  man  before 
myself?  Answer  me  yes  or  no." 

"Y-yes — I  was  once  —  engaged  —  a  little,"  gasped 
the  girl ;  all  the  story  that  had  been  ready  to  rush  so  full 
and  free  from  her  lips  choked  back  before  the  startling 
change  which  had  come  over  her  betrothed. 

*'  The  man  was  your  lover?  "  hoarsely  interrogated  Mr. 
Leigh.  "  I  mean  you  engaged  yourself  to  him,  he  was 
your  personal  choice?  "  he  repeated  ;  for  he  was  clinging 
to  so  desperate  a  possibility  as  that  an  American  girl  had 
been  affianced  by  any  will  but  her  own. 

"  He  —  he  was  —  then.     I  was  not  quite  seventeen." 

As  if  these  words  were  bayonet-thrusts,  the  man  fell 
back  before  them,  —  back  to  the  very  opposite  wall  of  the 
room.  Mouny  dropped  into  a  chair  by  the  door,  for  her 
very  limbs  failed  her  for  trembling.  Mechanically  Mr. 
Leigh  followed  her  movement,  sitting  down  where  he  was. 
The  width  of  the  room  was  now  between  them :  oh  the 


408  A   KEVEREND   IDOL. 

impassable  gulf  it  seemed  to  Monny  when  he  spoke 
again ! 

"  And  you  told  me  solemnly,  with  your  own  lips,  but  a 
week  ago,  —  that  moonlight  night  when  we  went  together 
to  the  beach,  —  that  you  had  never  promised  yourself  to 
any  man  before  me." 

"No,  no!  I  could  never  have  told  you  quite  that," 
insisted  the  girl.  UI  always  was  careful  not  to  say  ex 
actly  that ;  for  I  remembered  the  other.  I  remembered 
him  that  night  you  speak  of.  He  was  in  my  mind  when 
I  said  —  what  I  said  was,  I  had  never  cared  for  any  man 
before  so  —  so  much  as  —  for  you." 

All  the  tenets  of  mental  reservation,  that  Jesuitism, 
that  doctrine  of  devils,  Kenyon  Leigh  found  in  these 
words ;  and  his  voice,  his  very  face,  seemed  to  freeze  as 
he  rejoined,  — 

4 '  This  man  in  your  mind  whom  you  so  shaped  your 
words  to  cover  —  what  was  his  name? " 

44  Carroll  De  Lancey." 

A  perceptible  shudder  shook  the  questioner  at  this 
name  ;  but  he  went  on  with  the  tense,  iron  tone  of  a  man 
forcing  himself  to  be  deliberate,  — 

"  The  same  man,  who,  on  the  morning  after  that  night, 
in  this  very  room,  you  told  me  that  you  had  only  the 
slightest  accidental  acquaintance  with,  that  you  knew  him 
scarcely  at  all.  You  said  this  of  a  man  whose  promised 
wife  you  once  were.  Is  this  true  ?  Are  there  two  Carroll 
De  Lanceys  ?  Did  you  say  those  words  to  me  that  morn 
ing  of  the  selfsame  man  who,  you  now  confess,  once  held 
your  plighted  word  to  marry  him?"  Still,  in  a  last  ag 
onized  reluctance  to  believe,  the  man  thus  iterated  and 
reiterated  the  same  question.  He  would  be  answered; 
and  the  frightened  girl  could  only  answer  by  a  silent 
affirmative  sign. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  409 

At  that  sign  a  terrible  silence  fell  in  the  room,  broken  at 
last  by  Monny,  with  one  more  struggling  effort  to  explain, 
"I —  it  was  all  a  romantic  fancy,  which  many  things 
helped  on :  I  painted  his  picture  unknown  to  him." 

So  she  had  painted  another  man's  picture,  even  as  she 
had  painted  his.  That  sacredest  ineffable  memory  of  his 
life  was  but  a  rehearsal.  So  thought  the  lover  who  had 
been  the  original  of  the  Knight-Templar's  picture ;  and, 
with  some  inarticulate  sound  as  of  one  suffocating,  be 
and  was  gone  from  the  room. 


410 


KEVEBEND  IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XXVH. 

MAN,  naturalists  tell  us,  is  the  only  animal  in  the 
entire  range  of  creation  which  abuses  the  female  of 
its  species.  Might  we  dare  suggest,  as  one  possible  cause 
of  this  bad  eminence,  that  man  is  the  only  reasoning  ani 
mal,  and  that  reason  in  the  masculine  and  the  feminine 
head  follows  such  opposite  lines,  there  is  a  chance  of 
more  exasperating  collision  between  the  human  male  and 
female  than  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wildcat  in  spotted  skins  are 
ever  tried  with  ? 

Seriously,  from  that  lower  strata  of  society  where  man 
verily  behaves  himself,  to  the  wife  who  angers  him,  worse 
than  any  tiger  in  his  den,  maltreating  her  with  a  violence 
which  he  shows  to  no  other  creature  (as  is  pointed  out 
by  some  English  writers  of  the  day,  speaking  especially 
of  the  performances  of  the  British  "  rough  "  in  this  line), 
—  from  these  deeps  up  to  the  highest  social  air,  does  the 
peculiar  intensity  which  marks  the  conjugal  quarrel  arise 
wholly,  as  our  indignant  English  reviewers  declare,  from 
man's  inherent  idea  of  woman  as  his  bond-slave?  Or  is 
it  not  partly  due,  at  least,  to  this  cause,  —  that  the  two 
sexes,  once  brought  into  any  disputing  attitude,  have  a 
genuine  difficulty  in  understanding  each  other? 

Certainly,  as  to  the  betrothed  lovers  whose  tale  we  tell, 
the  man  had  now  come  to  abuse  in  his  mind,  to  do  a 
great  injustice  there  to  the  maiden  who  had  been  his  idol  ; 
and  this  state  of  things  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  with  all  her 
plots,  would  have  been  utterly  powerless  to  bring  about, 


A   REVEREND    IDOL.  411 


but  for  the  fact  that  the  pair  had  as  man  and  woman 
very  unlike  ways  of  looking  at  things.  Yet  this  was  a 
pair  united  by  so  many  affinities  of  taste  and  character,  it 
would  be  said,  at  least  by  the  progressives  of  our  day, 
that  the  disturbing  element  which  there  is  in  difference  of 
sex  would  be  sure  to  disappear.  But,  lo  !  on  the  very  first 
?  icstion  of  importance  which  arose  between  them  (and 
Ilia!  a  question  so  elemental  to  human  conduct  as  speak 
ing  the  truth)  ,  the  man  took  an  intensely  masculine  view, 
t  lie  woman  an  intensely  feminine  one  ;  and  the  two  were  in 
the  blindest  collision.  For  the  shock  with  which  Kenyon 
Leigh  had  gone  out  from  the  presence  of  his  young  be 
trothed  had  all  fallen  on  him  with  that  first  discovery  that 
she  had  concealed  from  him  a  matter  which  he  could  not 
conceive  how  any  truthful  being,  man  or  woman,  could 
conceal;  viz.,  the  fact  of  an  old  betrothal  on  making  a 
new  one.  lie  knew  that  if  he  himself  had  ever,  in  any 
sort  of  outward  way,  stood  as  a  suitor  to  Mrs.  Van  Cort- 
landt,  or  any  other  woman,  he  would  have  told  Monny  of 
it  at  once.  And  while  he  had  had  no  disposition  to  be 
over-prying  into  the  question  of  the  young  girl's  "little 
fancies  "  among  her  numerous  adorers  of  the  past,  if  any 
such  fancy  of  hers  had  ever  gone  so  far  into  the  region  of 
actualities  as  a  marriage  engagement,  he  would  have  con 
sidered  it  her  absolute  duty  to  tell  him  of  it  unasked. 
This  tenacity  of  his  feeling  that  an  engagement  had  some 
claim  to  be  reported  beyond  any  unacknowledged  love- 
affair,  was  certainly  not  because  as  a  lover  he  placed  the 
mere  effigy  before  the  life  of  sentiment  (no  lover  ever 
did  that)  :  but  he  had  that  masculine  respect  for  fact" 
which  we  have  spoken  of  in  a  former  chapter  ;  and  an 
engagement  was  a  kind  of  fact  to  him,  —  a  positive  stage, 
as  it  were,  in  affairs  of  the  heart.  That  is,  he  uncon 
sciously  reasoned  about  a  promise  to  marry  as  about  anj 


412  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

other  contract  or  bargain  ;  to  wit,  that  it  had  external  lia 
bilities,  —  had,  therefore,  by  the  very  constitution  of  the 
actual  world,  a  necessity  to  be  understood.  These  truths, 
self-evident  to  the  man,  were  a  class  of  truths  so  unper- 
ceived  by  the  girl,  that  the  merely  prudential  reason  which 
there  was  for  confessing  every  thing  to  Mr.  Leigh,  that  is, 
the  likelihood  of  these  strange  adventures  of  hers  coming 
to  his  knowledge  from  without,  had  never  once  occurred  to 
her.  No,  the  only  reasons  she  had  ever  seen  for  telling 
Mr.  Leigh  about  Carroll  De  Lancey  at  all  were  very  subli 
mated  ones,  — a  wish  to  be  utterly  true,  not  to  keep  back 
even  a  passing  fancy  that  she  had  once  had  for  another 
man.  Naturally,  reasons  of  this  strain  could  only  act  on 
her  in  very  exalted  moments,  and  even  then  not  with  that 
steadfast  compelling  which  would  have  been  in  a  clear 
mental  conviction  of  duty. 

Now  the  man,  having  no  stronger  mental  conviction  on 
earth  than  that  it  was  a  folly,  as  well  as  a  wrong,  to  attempt 
to  hide  the  actualities  of  one's  history,  inevitably  assumed 
that  guilt  of  some  sort  was  behind  Mouny's  concealment. 
Indeed,  when  a  man  makes  elaborate  efforts  to  hide  any 
thing  he  has  done,  he  has  generally  clone  something  which 
he  means  to  lie  about  through  thick  and  thin,  aware  that 
it  will  take  all  the  resources  of  tying  successfully  to  cover 
up  facts  in  this  world.  So,  although  all  that  terrible  story 
which  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  set  coiled  like  a  serpent 
in  Kenyon  Leigh's  consciousness,  to  bide  its  time  there, 
could  not  fasten  itself  yet  on  a  lover's  belief,  one  deadly 
fang  of  doubt  in  Monny  was  planted  in  his  breast  the  very 
moment  those  few  overheard  words  of  hers  in  the  desert 
revealed  to  him  that  she  had  been  engaged  before,  and 
had  not  told  him  of  it. 

If  the  man  placed  an  exaggerated  emphasis  on  this 
matter,  so,  also,  on  the  gui's  side,  it  was  all  an  exaggera- 


A    KKVKEEND    IDOL.  413 

tion  of  womanly  sensibility  which  had  caused  her  conceal- 
mont:  and  probably  neither  of  these  brings  could  have 
been  quite  the  man  and  woman  that  they  were  without 
being  liable  to  such  exaggerations,  which  were  in  the  direc 
tion  of  their  best,  their  most  distinctive,  virtues  as  man 
and  woman.  That  soul  of  integrity  in  affairs,  trustworthi- 
IDCFS  like  a  rock,  which  belonged  to  the  man,  probably 
could  not  have  so  distinguished  him  but  for  the  fact  that 
certain  principles  of  action  were  so  ingrain  with  him  he 
did  not  consciously  reason  about  them  at  all, — did  not 
conceive  that  any  right-intcntioned  being  could  be  blind 
to  those  principles.  l>ut  the  most  right-intentioned  Mouny 
wax  blind  to  them,  did  have  another  point  of  view : 
while  the  man's  vision  took  in  the  outwardness  of  things, 
she  saw  only  their  inwardness.  Integrity  towards  a  lover 
was  to  her  all  a  matter  of  the  heart;  and  conscious  that 
her  heart  was  not  less,  but  even  more,  whole  towards  Mr. 
Leigh  because  of  the  man  that  was  before  him,  she  did 
not  see  that  her  old  bond  to  that  man,  righteously  broken 
and  long  outworn  as  it  was,  still  hud  been,  and,  like  other 
facts,  had  made  positive  waymarks  in  her  history,  that 
her  future  husband  needed  to  understand. 

The  feminine  way  of  looking  at  things,  as  we  have  be 
fore  suggested,  has,  we  think,  its  own  great  worth  in  life 
and  society ;  but  the  masculine  way  would  certainly  seem 
the  one  best  adapted  for  the  management  of  business,  of 
public  affairs.  And,  if  education  might  somewhat  ap 
proximate  these  differences,  it  still  remains,  as  women 
suffragists  seem  to  forget,  that  the  essential  force  and 
value  of  every  being  lies  never  in  the  line  of  its  bor 
rowed  qualities,  but  always  in  that  of  its  primary,  its  most 
instinctive  ones. 

Well,  to  return  to  our  lovers  :  that  uulikeness  of  nature 
which  had  been  their  mutual  attraction  had  eertaiulv 


414  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

become  their  dark  division  now.  The  morrow  came  before 
Mr.  Leigh  again  saw  his  betrothed ;  then,  knowing  of 
course,  that  the  rending  subject  which  had  come  between 
them  could  not  be  dropped  there,  he  knocked  at  the  door 
of  her  studio. 

Ah  !  when  she  opened  it,  he  knew  that  gone  forevoi  was 
that  morning  when  he  could  turn  his  back  on  this  girl  at 
the  voice  of  reason.  Reason  told  him  to-day  that  she  had 
lied  to  him  ;  yet,  at  the  first  sight  of  her  troubled  young 
face,  every  thing  went  down  before  the  one  need  to  be 
reconciled  to  her,  —  his  darling. 

But  Monnj^  would  not  take  the  woman's  advantage. 
She  saw  that  there  was  one  thing  in  the  world  which  the 
strong  man  before  her  was  not  strong  enough  to  bear :  he 
could  not  bear  her  tears.  And,  whether  it  was  that  old 
feeling  of  hers,  that  she  would  not  have  his  love  without 
his  approval,  she  choked  back  the  tears,  and  so  restrained 
her  trembling  that  to  the  eye  she  seemed  suddenly  to  take 
the  coldness,  and  almost  the  immobility,  of  a  statue. 
This  forced  calm  looked  to  the  man  like  the  puttiug-on  of 
a  mask  of  impenetrability ;  and  his  melting  mood  so  far 
congealed,  that  he  began,  with  a  touch  of  the  imperative 
i/i  his  voice,  — 

1  i  That  young  man  whom  you  were  once  to  marry  — 
Carroll  De  Lancey  —  is  somewhat  known  to  me  by  repu 
tation.  Stories  have  come  to  my  ears  about  —  him"  (he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  say  to  Monny's  face  "about 
you")  "which  give  me  a  reason,  a  right,  to  ask  where, 
in  what  places,  you  were  ever  with  him.  Did  he  visit  you 
ut  your  home,  your  uncle's  house?  " 

' !  No  :  my  uncle  and  aunt  were  in  Europe  then.  I  was 
at  school  in  New  York.  That  is  the  only  place  where  I 
ever  saw  him  —  except  in  West  Point,  at  a  bail  there. 
Thitt  was  where  I  first  met  him,  lie  was  Very  hand- 


A  REVEREND   IDOL.  415 

some  —  he  was  wonderful  for  beauty.  Yon  noticed  it  your 
self  :  you  said,  4  What  a  handsome  young  caballero!' 
when  you  first  saw  his  picture.  That  was  his  picture 
which  you  found  in  my  old  school  portfolio.  And  he 
was  so  accomplished  besides  :  even  the  young  men  at  West 
Point  admired  him  immensely.  He  spoke  foreign  lan 
guages  so  perfectly,  and  danced  and  sang  beautifully.  He 
sang  to  me  the  night  after  the  ball,  when  we  went  in  a 
moonlight  party  on  the  river :  he  sang,  '  Drink  to  me  only 
with  thine  eyes.'  ' 

Every  syllable  of  that  beautiful  old  song,  thrilling  with 
love's  divine  exaggerations,  shot  through  the  heart  of  the 
man  who  heard  these  praises  of  his  predecessor  which 
poor  Monny  poured  forth  in  her  simplicity,  striving  to 
show  some  cause  for  that  early  infatuation  of  hers,  fear 
ing  always,  that,  to  those  who  knew  him  only  of  late  years, 
perhaps  the  dissolute  Carroll  De  Lancey  showed  no  traces 
of  that  young  splendor  which  had  attracted  her ;  and 
what,  then,  could  Mr.  Leigh  think  of  her  standards  about 
suitors  ? 

Mr.  Leigh's  thoughts  were  a  whirlwind  ;  but  supreme^t 
of  all  rose  some  nameless,  passionate  torture  of  the 
lover's  iealousy.  Yes,  with  the  intolerable  sense  of  one 
belated,  wno  has  overslept  the  hour,  the  mature  man  sud 
denly  saw  all  the  years  behind  him  —  saw  all  knowledge, 
duties,  all  labors  that  are  done  under  the  sun  —  burn  up 
as  the  mere  stubble  of  life  in  one  consuming  desire  to 
have  been  beforehand  with  that  dancing,  singing  strip 
ling,  into  whose  lot  and  nature  the  great  preacher  could 
wish  this  moment  to  have  been  born.  Even  Monny's 
little  jest  of  the  other  day,  "  Stay  down  in  your  chair, 
and  make  yourself  a  little  smaller,  whon  I  come  in," 
came  back  now  to  this  least  self-conscious  of  men  with 
the  stabbing  thought  that  she  saw  him  as  an  ungainly 


416  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Behemoth  beside  the  splendid  young  Antinous  whoso 
praises  she  could  not  forbear  to  his  own  very  face. 

Why  had  she  ever  broken  with  that  lover?  This  in 
ward  question  he  at  length  put  aloud,  in  some  shape,  to 
Monny. 

"I —  I  found  that  he  did  not  truly  love  me.  And  I 
grew  tired  of  him  myself  before  —  right  there  in  New 
Orleans." 

"  New  Orleans?  "  Mr.  Leigh  repeated  the  fatal  words 
with  a  sharp  passionateness  of  outbreak.  "And  just 
now  New  York  and  West  Point  were  the  only  places 
where  you  ever  saw  Carroll  De  Lancey  !  In  one  grain  of 
mercy  to  me,  or  prudence  for  yourself,  will  you  begin  to 
speak  the  truth  to  me?  " 

To  hear  words,  tones,  like  these,  from  Mr.  Leigh's  lips, 
so  shook  his  young  betrothed,  she  could  only  gasp,  "I  — 
I  had  forgotten  about  New  Orleans —  There  is  —  some 
one  coming  into  the  yard  to  see  you."  Monny  was 
standing  now  by  the  window. 

And  directly,  indeed,  a  member  of  the  household  came 
up  the  stairs  to  summon  Mr.  Leigh  below,  and  the  inter 
view  was  for  a  moment  interrupted. 

Returning  to  the  studio  as  soon  as  his  caller  had  left, 
he  was  astounded  to  find  that  Monny  had  snatched  the 
occasion  to  quit  the  room  and  the  house. 


A  BE V EKES  D   IDOL.  417 


CHAPTER  XXVin. 

THE  man's  way  of  looking  at  things,  the  mere  pies- 
sure  of  her  lover's  mind  on  her  own  the  moment  it 
ceased  to  be  sympathetic,  inevitably  frightened  the  girl 
whose  bewildered  lluctuations  we  traee.  She  did  not 
even  know  the  point  where  his  wrath  began,  did  not  yet 
perceive  that  it  was  her  concealment  which  lingered  him  : 
it  was  still  her  idea  that  the  bare  fact  of  her  having  been 
engaged  to  a  young  man  like  Carroll  De  Lancey  shocked 
him  as  a  blemish  on  her  delicacy.  How  ever,  then,  could 
she  find  face  to  tell  him  of  that  indelicate  journey  tc  New 
Orleans?  She  fled. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlaudt  saw  her  rushing  past  the  Gawthrop 
house  in  the  briefest  time  after  the  events  of  the  last 
chapter,  and  hurried  into  the  street  to  intercept  her  with, 
44  Where  are  you  going?  " 

14  Home  —  to  my  uncle  and  aunt." 

44  Not  directly,  surely?"  replied  the  widow;  for  on 
foot,  and  in  her  delicate  morning-dress,  the  girl  scarcely 
suggested  a  railway-traveller. 

"  No.  I  knew  the  train  had  gone.  But  I  am  going 
to  the  station  to  telegraph,  to  find  out  just  where  my 
tumt  is,  that  1  may  join  her  at  once.  I  cannot  wait  for 
letters  —  I  cannot  \v:ut  for  any  thing." 

44  Come  to  my  room,  and  tell  me  what  is  the  matter," 
said  the  widow ;  and  she  drew  the  excited  girl  into  the 
house. 

44  What  is  the  matter?  "  she  repeated  there. 


418  A  KEVEKEND  IDOL. 

"  Ob  !  Mr.  Leigh  has  heard  in  some  way  about  my 
engagement  to  Carroll  De  Lancey  —  I  don't  know  how 

—  it  seems  to  be  in  the  air,"  moaned  Monny.     "  And  he 
takes  it  so  —  so  hard,  I  dare  not  tell  him  the  rest  with 
my  own  lips.     And  I  was  going  to  tell  him  the  whole  of 
it  last  night,  even  without  his  asking  me,  even  against 
your  advice,  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt.     But  I  dare   not   tell 
him  now  myself ;  and  I  shall  ask  my  uncle  and  aunt  to 
tell  him.     That  is  why  I  want  to  go  to  them  right  away, 

—  to  my  own  blood  and   kin,"  said  the  wounded  girl, 
quivering  with  a  strange,  agonized  sense  of  wanting  home 
protection  —  and  —  against  1dm. 

"  You  say  your  friends  are  travelling?"  quietly  asked 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 

"  Yes,  just  now.  They  have  been  at  Lenox  for 
weeks ;  but  aunt  Helen's  last  letter,  a  day  or  two  ago, 
said  they  were  just  starting  for  a  trip  in  the  Middle 
States." 

"You  would  not  wish  to  alarm  your  friends,  to  bring 
them  suddenly  here?"  suggested  the  plotter. 

44 1  mean  to  go  to  them,  not  to  bring  them  here.  Aunt 
Helen  mentioned  several  places  where  they  were  to  stop. 
I  can  certainly  find  out,  by  telegraphing  to  all  of  them, 
just  where  they  are  now." 

The  widow's  swift  thought,  electrized  by  the  conscious 
ness  that  this  one  day  probably  held  all  her  chances  of 
success  or  failure,  traversed  an  intricate  maze  of  strategy, 
before  she  said,  — 

"I  will  go  right  over  to  the  telegraph-office  with  you, 
my  dear." 

Hither  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  went,  and  easily  enough 
prolonged  through  the  entire  day  the  business  of  finding 
out  by  the  telegraph-wires  that  the  Slabwells  were  at  a 
mountain-house  in  the  Catskills.  She  was  careful  not 


A    REVEKEND    IDOL.  419 

only  to  keep  Monny  with  her  in  the  village,  out  to  send 
word  to  the  Doaue  house  where  she  was,  well  aware 
that  nothing  could  look  more  suspicious  to  Mr.  Leigh 
now  than  that  the  girl  should  be  thus  closeted  with  her 
accuser. 

Then,  as  the  hours  of  the  afternoon  wore  on,  she  made 
two  deeply-planned  moves.  First  she  despatched  by 
Tonson,  all  unknown  to  Monny,  a  letter  to  Mr.  Leigh, 
and,  directly  in  wake  of  this  letter,  sent  to  Mrs.  Doaue'a 
house  the  lost  trunk,  which  had  arrived  that  morning  at 
the  Cape-Cod  depot,  from  Jackson,  Miss. 

Thus,  to  the  appalled  man  waiting  in  the  Doane  house 

—  appalled   first   by  Monny's   deliberate   flight  from  his 
inquiries,  and  then  by  the  still  greater  shock  of  learning 
that  she  had  gone  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  —  came  a  letter 
like  the  following,  which,  with  the  fierce  eagerness  of  the 
long  day's  suspense,  he  tore  open  and  read  :  — 

"REV.  KENYOX  LEIGH, —  Notwithstanding  the  tone  of  your 
last  letter  to  me,  it  becomes  my  difficult  duty  to  write  to  you 
again;  for  I  must  state,  that,  during  your  recent  absence,  Miss 
Rivers  confessed  to  me  with  her  own  lips  her  identity  with  that 
young  girl  of  the  New-Orleans  scandal,  —  a  fact  absolutely  certain 
to  me  before  beyond  all  human  possibility  of  mistake. 

"  There  is  now  one  especial  item  connected  with  that  journey 
"whicu  I  must  refer  to.  When  Miss  Rivers  fled  from  her  New- 
York  boarding-school  in  male  attire,  she  cut  off  her  hair  (to  per 
fect  her  disguise),  and  threw  it  into  a  trunk,  which  was  lost  on 
her  journey;  that  is,  left,  forgotten,  at  the  depot  in  Jackson,  Miss., 

—  the  place  where  the  runaway  pair  openly  took  the  names  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Carroll  De  Lancey.     As  this  trunk  contained  not  only 
the  hair,  but  her  male  disguise  (a  cadet's   uniform),  and   other 
fatal  proofs  of  her  misadventure,  she  has  been  endeavoring  during 
tho  past  week  to  get  it  buck  into  her  possession,  and    to-day  it 
has  arrived  in  this  very  town.     I  hope  that  there  are  no  more 
quite  such   ruinous   witnesses   as   this    trunk    scattered    abroad 
against  h'er.     But  some  one  surely  should  look  after  this  unfortu 
nate  girl  in  her  present  excited  state,  that  she  do  not  compromis« 


420  A    REVEREND   IDOL. 

nerself  unnecessarily.  In  this  view  of  duty  I  have  kept  her  with 
me  to-day,  having  found  her  going  in  wild  agitation  to  the  tele 
graph-office,  in  the  idea  of  communicating  with  her  uncle  and 
aunt  about  this  past  disgrace  of  hers,  which  to  this  day  she  has 
kept  a  profound  secret  from  them.  Nevertheless,  with  these 
extraordinary  talents  for  concealment,  there  is  blended  such  a 
vein  of  childish  heedlessness,  I  feared,  as  I  have  said,  to  leave  her 
to  herself  to-day. 

'"  I  hope  that  I  may  lay  down  here  this  most  unhappy  part 
towards  yourself,  which  fate  has  so  strangely  thrust  me  into.  Of 
course,  could  I  have  known  in  the  beginning  that  it  was  yourself, 
and  not  the  Roosevelts,  who  needed  to  he  informed  of  Miss  Rivers' s 
wild  past,  I  should  have  felt  it  impossible  to  discharge  myself  the 
duty  of  informer;  but,  knowing  what  I  did  of  the  girl,  it  was 
naturally  inconceivable  to  me,  either  that  a  clergyman  should 
think  of  her  as  a  wife,  or  that  she  herself  should  desire  such  a 
position.  Although  now,  when  I  reflect  that  a  clergyman,  being 
ruined  in  his  profession  as  no  other  man  is  by  a  domestic 
scandal,  can  never  afford  to  repudiate  the  guiltiest  wife,  I  can  see 
that  powerful  considerations  of  policy  and  prudence  might  impei 
Miss  Rrvers  to  marry  a  minister,  aware,  as  she  must  have  been, 
that  the  dark  secret  in  her  history  was  always  liable  to  be  dis 
covered  sooner  or  later  by  a  husband. 

"  Respectfully  yours, 

"ADELAIDE  VAN  COBTLANDT." 

Decidedly  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew  where  to  strike. 
The  last  words  of  this  horrible  letter  did  more  than  any 
thing  else  in  it  to  nail  into  the  man's  breast  a  conviction 
of  the  possible  truth  of  it  all.  He  had  never  ceased  to 
wonder,  with  love's  own  humility,  —  we  might  add,  with 
that  especial  humility  of  the  man  who  loves  a  woman 
much  younger  than  himself,  —  that  he  had  been  able  to 
win  this  young  heart  for  his  own.  This  was  the  secret  of 
it  all,  then  :  she  had  found  it  prudent  to  marry  a  minister. 

And  need  we  say  that  corroborative  memories  had 
rushed  hideously  on  his  mind  at  every  point  in  this  letter  ? 
The  cut-off  hair  lost  in  a  trunk  when  she  was  travelling  — 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  421 

could  he  forget  how  he  had  heard  of  that  from  Monny'a 
own  lips?  That  morning  when  lie  had  pulled  out  before 
her  very  faee  Caroll  De  Lancey's  picture,  the  statue-like 
calm  which  fell  on  her,  the  winsome  little  appeal  to  him 
with  which  she  broke  out  of  it,  "I  have  learned  lately  a 
little  to  cook"  —  was  that  her  talent  for  concealment, 
mixed  with  childishness?  Yea,  that  sacred  midnight  when 
she  had  flung  herself  sobbing  on  his  breast,  and  cried, 
4 'Take  me  into  your  church!"  —  was  that  a  childish 
burst  of  repenting  ?  Heavens  !  had  not  the  minister  seen 
transgressors  before  trying  to  shrive  themselves,  in  some 
more  or  less  fantastic  way,  for  their  unconfessed  sins  — 
to  join  the  church  on  the  stairs? 

k'  And  I  saw  woman,  that  she  is  like  a  snare,  or  some 
such  other  object:"  these  words  of  old  Gregory  Thau- 
maturgus,  or  some  such  other  object  among  those  ancho 
rite  priests  whom  he  had  hidden  from  Mouny's  reading, 
dinned  through  his  brain  now  as  he  stood  paralyzed  with 
a  sense  of  some  craft  in  the  girl  which  the  falsest  of  male 
beings  could  never  attain  to,  —  some  fathomless  duplicity 
which  only  a  creature  who  so  mixed  her  very  guile  with 
grace  could  show. 

And  now,  in  the  wild  whirl  of  these  thoughts,  he  was 
aware  of  a  wagon  driven  up  to  the  house,  a  noise  about 
the  front  door ;  and,  feverishly  expectant  at  every  sound 
from  without,  he  stepped  to  the  head  of  the  front  stair 
case.  A  man,  admitted  by  Jenny  Hines,  was  hoisting  a 
trunk  up  the  stairs :  it  was  the  familiar  driver  of  the 
depot  baggage- wagon. 

"Miss  Ivivers's  trunk,"  he  said,  doffing  his  hat  to  Mr. 
Leigh  as  he  reached  the  upper  landing  of  the  stairs,  where 
he  paused,  resting  the  trunk  endwise,  waiting  for  this 
inmate  of  the  house  to  suggest  the  precise  spot  where  it 
should  be  left.  Mr.  Leigh  replied  to  this  tacit  inquiry  by 


422  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

pusl  ing  open  the  door  of  Monny's  studio;  and  the  man, 
depositing  the  trunk  in  the  middle  of  that  room,  departed. 

The  much  tossed-about  piece  of  baggage  was  scrawled 
all  over  with  railroad  hieroglyphics  ;  but  one  crimson  card, 
printed  with  the  picture  of  a  hotel,  and  the  words,  "  liar- 
court  House,  Jackson,  Miss.,"  —  this  hotel-card  had  kept 
its  place  through  every  thing,  and  glared  on  the  minister 
now  like  a  blood-red  stain. 

He  walked  round  and  round  the  thing  as  if  spell* 
bound,  never  imagining  that  any  deeper  agency  than  acci 
dent  had  so  timed  the  arrival  of  this  fatal  witness  against 
Monny.  No :  that  she  should  dig  this  trunk  up  from  its 
five-years'  hiding  in  the  State  of  Mississippi,  especially 
to  destroy  that  black  testimony  against  herself  which 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  declared  it  to  contain,  and  then 
allow  chance  to  tumble  it  down  at  his  very  feet,  —  this 
would  be  only  another  specimen  of  that  infantile  heedless- 
ness  and  far-reaching  secrecy  which  had  so  marked  all  the 
girl's  course. 

While  the  man  was  torn  on  the  rack  of  these  thoughts, 
the  intriguer  in  the  Gawthrop  House  was  addressing  her 
self  to  the  most  critical  step  of  all ;  that  is,  directly  after 
her  secret  sending-off  of  the  trunk,  she  turned  her  con 
versation  with  Monny  into  an  entirely  new  channel.  First 
she  informed  the  girl,  what  as  yet  the  latter  had  heard  no 
rumor  of,  that  "  The  Etolia,"  with  the  Binghams  on  board, 
was  believed  to  be  lost  at  sea. 

This  was  too  great  a  tragedy  for  Monny  to  remember 
its  bearings  upon  her  own  personal  fate,  until  Mrs.  Van 
Cortlandt  said,  with  a  singular  accent,  — 

4 'Most  unfortunate  for  you,  Miss  Rivers,  that  the  only 
original  witness  to  the  truth  of  your  account  of  the  New- 
Orleaps  journey  should  be  cut  off  in  this  way.  It  leaves 
you  so  sadly  exposed  to  the  world's  suspicion,  it  is  neces- 


A    KEYEKENI)    IDOL.  423 

sary,  of  course,  for  you  to  confess  every  thing  to  your 
aunt  and  uncle.  But  if  you  had  only  confessed  to  them 
at  the  time  of  the  affair,  five  years  ago !  How  very 
singular  that  you  did  not  do  it !  If  you  had  only  told 
them  every  thing  then,  it  would  have  been  counted  as  a 
considerable  proof  of  your  honesty." 

44  Honesty  ?  "  repeated  Monny  in  a  dazed  way,  —  "  con 
siderable  proof?  I  —  I  think  I  do  not  quite  understand 
you." 

44 1  mean,"  deliberately  replied  the  intriguer,  u  that 
your  own  story  of  that  journey  to  New  Orleans  will  be 
pronounced  by  the  world  too  extremely  wild  and  improba 
ble  to  be  true, — a  quite  impossible  fable,  in  short.  It 
will  be  said  that  the  probable  thing  is  that  you  made  that 
iourney  alone  with  Carroll  De  Lancey." 

"Probable  that  I  —  travelled  alone  like  that  with  a 
young  man?  Who  will  say  that  was  probable  of  me?" 
slowly  repeated  the  astounded  girl,  a  red  flame  beginning 
to  burn  up  in  her  pure  cheek.  Still  it  was  too  impossible 
for  her  yet  to  conceive  just  all  that  these  insinuations 
meant. 

44  Every  one  who  knows  life  will  say  it,"  coolly  replied 
the  widow.  44  Carroll  De  Laneey's  repute  as  a  young 
man  of  pleasure,  the  fact  that  he  was  your  fiance,  every 
circumstance,  the  world  will  say,  points  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  a  runaway  love-affair." 

44  Why,  there  was  not  an  atom  of  love-affair  about  it," 
Monny  burst  in.  4'  Carroll  De  Lancey  never  stirred  out 
of  West  Point  till  Kate  and  I  got  to  New  Orleans :  he 
had  not  the  slightest  thing  to  do  with  our  going  there  — 
ecurybwly  knew  it." 

44  Will  3*ou  name  the  persons  who  make  up  this  every 
body?  "  calmly  rejoined  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt. 

44  Mrs.  Bingham,  she  knew  it  well,  and  her  maid  Jane, 
and  Kate  —  and  all  of  us,"  cried  Monny  breathlessly. 


424  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

"  Miss  De  Lancey  having  died  years  ago,  as  you  tell 
me,  and  the  maid  Jane  dying  at  the  very  time  of  the 
affair,"  continued  the  widow  with  an  iron  accent,  "and 
Mrs.  Bingham  now  dead  in  all  human  probability,  what 
being  is  alive  to  confirm  your  tale  ?  I  wish  myself,  Miss 
Rivers,  (o  believe  in  you  and  to  befriend  you.  But  I  am 
speaking  to  you  of  the  outside  world ;  and  very  strange 
stories,  to  which  the  witnesses  are  all  dead,  are  not 
credited  by  that." 

44  Carroll  De  Lancey  is  not  dead!  —  he  —  the  chief 
witness,"  almost  shrieked  the  girl,  as  she  began  to  see 
at  last  the  situation  which  this  wily  enemy  would  show  her 
as  her  own.  "He  will  swear  to  the  truth  of  every  syl 
lable  I  have  said  about  that  journey ;  and  his  word  can  be 
taken  by  the  whole  world,  —  the  word  of  a  gentleman. 
He  had  no  morals  ;  but  he  was  a  gentleman,  he  would  not 
lie." 

u  Precisely,  if  he  is  a  gentleman,"  responded  the  widow, 
in  her  quiet,  steoly  tones,  "  he  would  lie  in  your  case, — 
the  case  which  the  world  will  believe  to  be  yours.  Do 
you  not  know  that  the  one  exceptional  case  in  which  a 
gentleman  is  allowed,  nay,  commanded,  to  lie,  is  to  save 
(before  the  public)  the  honor  of  a  woman  who  has  lost 
her  honor  for  him?  Carroll  De  Lancey  is  worse  than  no 
witness  for  you ;  since,  if  he  were  to  swear  to  the  truth  of 
your  tale,  the  world  would  only  believe  he  was  ingeniously 
lying  to  screen  you,  as  the  code  of  a  gentleman  would 
oblige  him  to  lie." 

The  woman  of  the  world  shook  her  over  the  abyss  at 
last,  —  this  Puritan  girl,  bred  up  in  modesty  from  her 
cradle.  The  one  virtue  in  which  that  unvirtuous  lover  of 
her  girlhood  stood  immaculate  —  the  word  of  a  gentleman 
—  would  only  beat  her  down  the  deeper,  if  she  grasped  at 
it  u>  save  her !  The  victim  of  this  last  terrible  argument 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  426 

on  woman's  peculiar  position  in  life  sat  as  if  death-struck 
for  a  space  ;  then  at  last,  stretching  out  her  hands  with  a 
blind,  sick  movement,  she  gasped  faintly,  "I  must  go 
back  —  back  to  him.  Why  have  you  let  me  waste  the 
time  so/'  she  murmured  helplessly,  "to-day  and  all  the 
days  gone  by,  without  explaining  to  me  before?  When  I 
Lave  ro  cause  to  see  my  uncle  and  aunt,  or  anybody  on 
raith.  except  him.1' 

44  What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him?  "said  the  in 
triguer,  laying  a  quick  hand  on  the  girl's  arm,  startled  by 
something  in  the  white  intensity  of  her  face. 

"  That  I  release  him  forever  —  what  else?  Do  you 
suppose  that  I  would  many  him, — join  to  a  name  like 
Ti/.s-  my  name,  if  the  most  outside  being  in  all  the  outside 
world  could  ever  whisper  that  it  was  not -a  good  name? 
Let  me  go!  "  The  widow  strove  yet  to  detain  her:  but 
it  was  as  if  she  had  seized  a  whirlwind ;  the  desperate 
maiden  broke  from  her  grasp,  and  ran  out  of  the  house. 

"  The  only  correct  actions  are  those  which  require  no 
explanation  and  no  apology  : ' '  these  words  out  of  Auer- 
bach  rang  in  the  ears  of  this  hunted  girl  on  her  fugitive 
way  with  that  sound  of  absolute  and  awful  truth  with 
which  mere  half-truths  uttered  in  an  aphoristic  way 
impose  on  a  young  mind.  She  felt  banned  for  ever  and 
ever  from  marrying  Mr.  Leigh,  although  her  worst  con 
jectures,  as  she  sped  back  over  the  old  road  to  tell  him  so, 
still  stopped  far  short  of  any  such  horror  as  that  he  was 
believing,  or  ever  would  believe,  what  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt 
had  just  told  her  the  general  world  would  believe,  about 
her  connection  with  Carroll  De  Lancey. 

How  she  reached  Mrs.  Doane's  she  did  not  know,  only 
that,  climbing  again  the  old  stairs,  her  heart  once  more 
stood  still  at  Mr.  Leigh's  voice  calling  peremptorily  to  her, 
tlu'a  time  from  her  own  threshold,  "  Conic  in  —  here!" 


426  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Like  a  blown  leaf  she  fluttered  into  the  studio  to  see  and 
recognize  the  lost  trunk  standing  there  in  the  middle  of 
the  room.  With  a  low,  frightened  cry,  as  feeling  herself 
pursued  by  fate,  she  stood  motionless,  turning  deathly 
pale. 

It  seemed  the  very  aspect  of  mortal  guilt ;  and  every 
emotion  of  the  lover  was  swamped  in  the  primal  wrath  of 
man  deceived  by  woman  with  the  last  deceit.  He  drew 
her  up  to  the  trunk  with  such  a  grasp  on  her  arm,  —  the 
strong  man  in  his  agony,  —  that  she  would  have  cried  out 
in  the  flesh,  if  in  the  flesh  she  had  any  longer  had  the 
power  to  feel. 

44  Open  that  trunk,  and  show  me  what  is  in  it !  " 

Her  shaking  hands  made  some  helpless  sign  that  she 
had  no  key,  and  with  a  thrust  or  two  of  the  man's 
foot,  the  lid  of  the  trunk  (it  was  a  slight  packing-trunk) 
flew  in  pieces,  and  the  contents  fell  out.  They  fell  out, 
the  long-severed  golden  curls,  the  cadet's  uniform,  the 
crumpled,  yellowed  ball-dress. 

He  plunged  his  hand  into  the  heap  of  shining  tresses, 
and  felt  them  twine  round  his  fingers  as  he  held  them  on 
high.  "You  cut  this  hair  from  your  head  for  a  certain 
journey  to  New  Orleans,  five  years  ago,  when  you  wore  — 
these  things?  "  he  said,  indicating  the  suit  of  male  clothes 
with  a  shudder.  He  paused,  compelling  an  answer  ;  and 
the  quivering  lips  shaped  some  inarticulate  "  Yes." 

1  'In  this  disguise  of  a  boy  you  travelled  from  New 
York  to  Jackson,  Miss.,  where  you  threw  these  clothes 
into  this  trunk,"  he  reiterated,  "and  took  openly  the 
name  of  a  wife  —  of  Mrs.  Carroll  De  Lancey?"  Again 
he  paused,  forcing  an  answer.  And  what  could  she  answer 
but  that  helpless  "  Yes." 

"  And  you  intended  to  hide  this,  and  marry  me !  Great 
Godt" 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  427 

She  reeled  heavily  backward  at  these  words  —  01  did 
he  fling  her  from  him  like  ail  outcast  creature,  whilt  his 
GITV  reproaches,  like  some  deadly  hail,  went  beating  on 
IKT  head?  A  moment  longer  the  white  terror  of  her  face 
was  still  uplifted,  with  wild,  asking  eyes  fixed  on  his ; 
then,  with  some  indescribable  action  of  a  slain  thing,  she 
fell  forward,  her  head  dropped  upon  the  wall-table  piled 
with  the  old  school  portfolios,  her  face  hidden  from  sight ; 
nor  did  she  speak,  or  stir,  or  make  one  sign,  until  he  left 
her. 

All  had  passed  in  a  few  swift  moments ;  and  in  a  few 
moments  more  Kenyon  Leigh  left  the  house,  and  the 
evening  train  carried  him  from  Cape  Cod. 


428  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

WOMEN,  in  judging  of  character,  rely  supremely  on 
their  intuitions :  when  these  speak  strongly,  all 
contradictory  evidence  of  a  merely  external  kind  goes 
with  them  for  nought.  Thus  the  utmost  ingenuity  of 
calumny  would  have  been  powerless  to  make  Monny  Rivers 
believe  evil  of  Keuyon  Leigh :  there  was  no  weapon  in 
the  whole  arsenal  of  lies  which  could  ever  have  slain  her 
faith  in  him  as  his  had  been  slain  in  her.  She  knew  this : 
hence  she  did  not  ask  how  overwhelming  might  have  been 
the  evidence  on  which  he  had  come  to  believe  her  a  fallen 
girl,  —  that  he  could  believe  it  on  any  evidence  which 
mortal  lips  could  bring  was  a  blow  under  which  she  fell 
dumb  as  death.  As  to  those  perfectly  automatic  answers 
which  she  had  made  to  his  fierce  inquiries  over  the  trunkv 
if  she  remembered  them  at  all,  it  was  to  remember  that 
belief  in  her  guilt  had  gone  beforehand  with  him,  or  he 
would  never  have  put  those  questions  to  her  as  he  did. 

This,  alas  !  was  true.  And,  before  accusing  her  of  mad 
folly  in  allowing  her  lover  to  depart  with  that  monstrous 
lie  which  had  been  forced  on  his  belief  all  uncontradicted, 
it  must  be  remembered,  that,  as  women  see  things,  she  had 
110  proof  of  her  innocence  to  offer  him  ;  for  he  had  been 
able  to  reject  what  to  her  was  the  most  infallible  of  all 
proofs,  viz.,  the  witness  that  should  have  been  in  his  own 
heart  that  the  things  she  was  accused  of  were  impossible 
to  her.  To  find  that  this  inner  witness  was  not  there  was 
a  discovery  for  which  nothing  of  all  that  had 


A    REVEREND    IDOL.  429 

between  Mr.  Leigh  and  herself  since  their  misunderstand 
ing  bewail,  had  in  the  least  prepared  her.  It  meant 
something  more  to  her  than  the  destruction  of  all  hci 
personal  happiness  on  earth  :  she  could  have  faced  that 
doom.  She  knew  that  human  beings  had  been  entangled 
before  in  dark  nets  of  circumstantial  evidence  from  which 
they  could  not  free  themselves,  so  that  they  had  suffered, 
even  unto  death,  for  crimes  of  which  they  were  innocent 
as  angels.  If  the  lot  had  fallen  on  her  to  be  one  of  those 
h  ipless  victims  (and  she  believed  that  it  had,  when  she 
came  back  to  free  Mr.  Leigh  from  his  engagement  to  her), 
it  would  only  be  one  of  the  terrible  mysteries  of  this  earth, 
—  mysteries  which  did  not  necessarily  reach  beyond  it. 
Such  a  fate  could  conceivably  be  borne,  hoping  for  the 
eternity  which  would  show  the  innocence  that  could  not  be 
proved  in  time.  But  the  horror  which  froze  her  soul 
when  she  found  that  not  the  hearsay  world,  but  her  own 
lover,  could  believe  that  unspeakable  ill  of  her,  was  no 
such  finite  thing :  it  blackened  beyond  the  gates  of  death, 
into  all  worlds,  all  lives  which  could  conceivably  be  lived 
by  the  spirits  of  men  and  women.  They  were  not  alike  : 
all  her  love-story  had  run  its  varying  round  to  end  at  last 
in  this  most  awful  confirmation  of  the  fear  which  hail 
vaguely  shadowed  its  beginning. 

Night  fell  in  the  little  room ;  but  the  crushed  girl  had  no 
f*onse  of  time  save  that  once  she  grew  aware  of  some  stir 
below  stairs,  which  reached  up  to  her  with  the  tidings  that- 
one  of  Mrs.  Doaue's  sick  grandchildren  (in  the  family 
where  Susannah  was  gone)  was  dead,  and  that  the  old 
lady  would  like  to  go  back  with  the 'messenger  who 
brought  the  news  (he  came  in  a  wagon)  ;  the  bereaved 
family  living  only  about  fifteen  miles  awny.  M<  n:iy, 
whose  only  remaining  consciousness  was  a  desire-  l<>  !•« 
alone,  and  to  be  asked  no  questions  about  Mr. 


430  A  REVEREND   IDO'*. 

roused  herself  to  go  down,  and  urge  Mrs.  Doane  to  take 
this  journey  to  her  daughter.  So  Mrs.  Doane,  feeling 
more  free  to  go  because  of  Mr.  Leigh's  departure,  —  she 
was  not  in  the  house  when  he  went,  and  supposed  that  he 
had  been  suddenly  called  to  New  York  for  affairs  con 
nected  with  his  parish,  —  made  some  hasty  arrangements 
for  the  care  of  the  house  in  her  absence,  and  was  driven 
off  in  the  wagon.  Then  Monny  was  alone. 

The  minister  rode  night  and  day  on  his  search  for 
Carroll  De  Lancey.  To  find  that  young  man,  and  marry 
him  to  Monny,  was  the  sole  objective  point  remaining  to 
him  in  existence.  Beyond  that,  nothing  was  defined, 
except  that  he  had  done  with  preaching.  As  a  minister 
he  had  but  one  more  word  to  say,  and  it  was,  "  I  give 
up  my  commission :  the  problem  of  evil  is  deeper  than  I 
can  fathom."  If  there  was  no  truth  in  woman,  there  was 
no  hope  for  man,  —  no  hope  in  all  the  life  of  humanity. 
He  was  right  in  this  conviction. 

He  went  to  New  York  to  find  that  Carroll  De  Lancey 
was  in  Baltimore,  and  to  Baltimore  to  learn  that  he  was 
back  again  in  New  York.  But  in  the  latter  city  he  at  last 
laid  hands  on  the  young  man.  He  found  him  in  elegant 
hotel  apartments,  and  at  an  hour  of  the  night  when  Mr. 
Carroll  (who  had  just  returned  to  his  rooms  after  some 
revel)  was  wont  to  be,  as  of  old,  and  much  oftener  than 
of  old,  flown  with  wine.  The  splendid  beauty  of  this 
Southern  Antinous,  the  singular  grace  of  his  bearing,  was 
only  marred,  not  obliterated  yet,  by  his  reckless  life  ;  and, 
recognizing  at  once  the  original  of  Monny's  romantic 
picture,  the  visitor's  first  sensation  was  a  devouring  im 
pulse  to  spring  on  the  young  man,  and  strangle  him  as  his 
rival  —  the  natural  man  was  far  from  dead  in  this  min 
ister. 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  431 

On  his  side  young  De  Lancey  stood  staring,  through 
his  mist  of  inebriety,  :it  UK'  imperious  stranger  who  made 
such  a  volcauic  irruption  into  his  rooms  past  midnight. 

"Doused  if  he  doesn't  look  like  his  Eminence  of  St. 
Ancient's!  —  Protestant  Eminence,  with  no  toggery,"  he 
begun  to  mutter  to  himself.  Mr.  Carroll's  education 
al-road  had  all  been  in  Catholic  schools ;  and  the  imposing 
nvtor  of  St.  Ancient's,  who  was  too  distinguished  a  man 
not  to  be  known  by  sight  to  young  De  Lancey,  suggested 
to  the  latter's  drink-befogged  brain  a  Romish  cardinal. 
"  AVhat  will  your  Grace  have  of  me?"  he  asked,  with  a 
salute  of  the  politest  deference. 

"  Such  miserable  reparation  as  you  can  make,  robber 
and  villain!"  thundered  the  accuser.  "The  fulfilment 
of  the  marriage-promise  you  made  years  ago  to  "  — 

He  paused  ;  for  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  utter 
Monny's  name  here. 

4 k  Marriage-promises  —  are  —  not  —  my  style, ' '  broken 
ly  answered  the  young  Bacchant,  steadying  himself  by 
the  mantel.  A  veritable  Bacchant  of  old  fable  he  looked 
to  the  minister,  —  some  vision  out  of  those  days  when 
conscienceless  creatures  laughed  in  an  endless  sunshine, 
took  untroubled  the  things  which  seemed  to  them  good ; 
when  scruples  were  not,  nor  right  and  wrong  yet  named ; 
when  nought  was  honor  or  dishonor  ;  "  when  yet  there  was 
no  fear  of  Jove." 

"  Never  promised  to  marry  but  one  girl  in  my  life," 
ho  young  man  went  on  ;  "  and  she  broke  it  off,  not  I  "  — 

"  Liar!  "  hoarsely  interrupted  the  accuser. 

The  young  Southerner's  face,  through  all  his  intoxica 
tion,  flushed  angrily  as  he  cried,  — 

"  Don't  give  that  word  to  me,  —  Eminence,  or  no  Kmi 
nence !  I  tell  you,  never  was  engaged  but  once ;  and 
'tiras  to  a  Puritan  girl,  by  Jove!  And  Vr  confounded 


432  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

relations  broke  it  off.  She  had  a  bourgeois  uncle,  —  none 
of  her  blood,  but  a  kind  of  guardian  uncle  by  marriage, 
—  a  regular  Yankee  peddler,  psalm-singer,"  declared  the 
young  aristocrat,  his  lively  memory  of  the  plebeian  style 
of  Mr.  Slabwell,  and  the  furious  moral  drubbing:  which 
he  had  administered  to  him,  leading  to  this  rather  mixed 
description  of  a  man  in  whom  the  psalm-singing  quality 
had  decidedly  died  out.  "The  bourgeois  Puritan!  To 
suppose,  because  I  took  my  i;ttle  fling  here  and  there, 
that  I  shouldn't  know  what  was  due  to  Monny  Rivers  — 
shouldn't  treat  her  as  a  gentleman  treats  his  "  — 

"Did  you  treat  her  like  a  gentleman,  —  that  mother 
less  school-girl  ? ' '  cried  the  other ;  and  in  a  storm  of 
indignation  he  poured  out  that  runaway  story  as  he  had 
heard  it. 

Staring  with  amazement,  the  young  reveller  heard,  his 
potations  beginning  to  clear  a  little  from  his  brain  with 
the  successive  shocks  of  surprise  which  this  astounding 
visitor  caused  him. 

"Liar  yourself !"  he  found  breath  to  retort  at  last  — 
u  or  whatever  villain  got  up  such  an  abominable  slander 
as  that !  Confounded  fool  he  must  be  about  women  to 
try  that  sort  of  lie  on  a  name  like  Monuy  Rivers.  A 
girl,"  he  said,  with  some  aerial  motions  of  the  hand 
which  indescribably  recalled  Monny  and  her  ways,  —  "a 
girl  that  }TOU  can  be  about  as  familiar  with  as  you  can 
with  a  bird  on  a  tree.  That's  what  a  man  wants  for  his 
wife,  by  Jove  !  whosoever  he  may  go  larking  with.  She 
was  to  have  been  my  wife,"  Mr.  De  Lancey  broke  out 
afresh,  and  with  more  soberness  than  he  had  yet  spoken  ; 
"and,  by  Jove !  no  man  shall  insult  her  in  my  presence 
by  asking  whether  she  travelled  alone  with  me  day  and 
night,  putting  up  at  hotels.  I'll  have  a  gentleman's  sat 
isfaction  for  that  .insult  to  the  inuoceutest  girl  thai  ov«»r 


A   REVEREND   IDOL.  433 

lived.  Stand  off,  and  defend  yourself,  sir!"  And  the 
last  of  the  cavaliers  pulled  out  a  brace  of  revolvers. 

There  was  a  genuineness  in  this  outbreak,  an  unmis 
takable  accent  of  respect  in  all  the  tone  in  which  the 
Southerner  spoke  Moimy's  name,  which  thrilled  to  the 
soul  of  Kenyou  Leigh.  He  seized  his  fiery  challenger  by 
the  arm,  not  wishing  at  this  moment  to  have  his  own 
brains  blown  out,  or  even  to 'blow  out  Carroll  I)e  Laucey's 
brains,  till  he  should  extract  more  speech  from  him. 

"Unhand  me!"  shouted  the  latter.  "Miss  Rivers 
went  that  journey  to  New  Orleans  with  my  sister,  —  not 
another  living  soul  with  her,  —  my  sister  Kate,  dressed  up 
in  my  clothes  for  a  lark.  Not  a  lark  that  I  should  have 
recommended  beforehand;  but,  by  Heaven!  I'll  defend 
them  in  it  now,  both  those  ladies, — Miss  Rivers  and  my 
dead  sister.  Choose  your  paces,  like  a  man  !  Stand  off, 
I  say  !  "  furiously  roared  the  would-be  duellist.  But  Mr. 
Leigh  succeeded  in  wrenching  both  pistols  from  his  grasp, 
and  hurling  them  across  the  room,  where  they  exploded 
with  no  murder.  Then  he  took  Mr.  Carroll  by  both 
arms  with  such  a  grip  as  mortal  man  has  seldom  laid 
upon  his  fellow. 

"  Speak,  speak  the  sober  truth  to  me  !  "  he  cried  ;  u  nor 
dare,  on  your  life,  to  speak  one  syllable  of  any  thing 
else!  "  And  the  mighty  grasp  which  pinioned  him,  and 
those  fierce  eyes  of  the  suspense-tortured  man  fixing  his, 
so  far  magnetized  the  tipsy  youth  out  of  his  tipsiness, 
that  he  did  speak  soberly  enough  at  last  to  impart  in 
some  intelligible  sort  the  true  story  of  the  two  runaway 
school-girls. 

As  the  listener  heard  it  all,  some  strange  convulsion 
passed  over  his  face  ;  then,  letting  go  the  young  man  with 
a  suddenness  which  nearly  threw  him  to  the  floor,  he  waa 
gone  from  the  room. 


434  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

Mr.  Carroll  De  Lancey  stood  long  agaze  at  the  door  by 
which  the  visitor  had  departed,  as  if  he  had  seen  a  vision. 
Then,  gathering  himself  up,  he  strove  to  bring  all  his 
confused  faculties  to  bear  on  the  amazing  interview  which 
Lad  just  passed.  Who  had  sent  that  churchman  to  drag 
him,  as  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  to  marry  Monny  Rivers? 
The  idea  of  the  Church  as  the  champion  of  the  indissulu- 
I  ility  of  marriage  was  familiar  to  the  youth :  had  the 
ecclesiastical  aegis  begun  to  extend  also  over  engagements 
to  marry?  He  concluded  so.  The  figure  that  had  just 
vanished  had  powerfully  suggested  to  him  Richelieu 
launching  the  curse  of  Rome,  only  that  the  rector  of  St. 
Ancient's,  in  his  wrath,  was  infinitely  more  overwhelm 
ing  than  any  player  of  the  great  Richelieu  that  Mr.  De 
Lancey  had  ever  seen.  Yes,  the  churchman  had  doubtless 
descended  on  him  in  his  official  fury,  rather  mixing  up  his 
business  (priests  were  apt  to  do  that)  ;  but  one  thing  was 
clear,  that  Monny's  early  engagement  to  himself  had 
somehow  turned  up  unpleasantly  for  her.  Perhaps,  too, 
all  the  surroundings  of  her  life  had  been  getting  unpleas 
ant  these  years.  She  lived  with  a  guardian.  Mr.  Carroll 
considered  guardians  a  naturally  pestiferous  race  ;  and  he 
could  well  imagine  the  bourgeois  Puritan  a  most  tiresome 
fellow,  and  his  roof  the  dullest  of  places.  Had  all  Mon 
ny's  Puritan  lovers  of  that  cold  North  been  growing 
tiresome  to  her  perhaps,  and  had  she  turned  back  to  him 
at  last,  whom  she  had  cruelly  rejected? 

Mr.  De  Lancey  was  not  a  young  man  to  die  of  heart 
break  over  any  one  disappointment  in  so  gay  a  world  ;  but 
he  had  been  really  disappointed  in  the  loss  of  Mouny 
Rheis  He  had  never  forgotten  that  rosebud  girl  of  the 
ballroom,  who  had  remained,  in  truth,  the  only  girl  for 
whom  he  had  ever  yet  been  willing  to  put  on  the  serious 
yoke  of  matrimony.  He  found  himself  fervently  willing 


A   KEVEKEND   IDOL.  485 

to  put  it  right  on  for  her  now.  Richelieu  need  not  have 
made  such  a  powwow.  lie  would  marry  Monny  liivers 
to-morrow* 

It  was  his  place  as  a  gentleman,  he  maturely  decided, 
to  communicate  now  with  the  }7oung  lady  herself.  Hav 
ing  reached  this  conclusion,  he  wisely  decided,  that,  as  a 
first  preliminary  in  the  new  prospects  before  him,  he  should 
try  to  compose  the  present  severe  jumble  of  his  thoughts 
by  the  restorative  of  sleep  ;  and,  dropping  on  the  nearest 
sofa,  he  slept  accordingly. 

Carroll  De  Lancey  could  sleep  off  yet,  very  heavy 
bumpers ;  and  when  he  awoke  next  day  he  was  in  fair 
condition  to  write  a  letter  to  Monny  Rivers,  whose  present 
address  he  had  learned  through  the  churchman's  fiery 
summons  to  him  to  go  to  Cape  Cod  and  marry  her.  He 
wrote  the  young  lady  a  very  ardent  but  entirely  respect 
ful  love-letter,  re-offering  himself  to  her,  heart  and  hand. 
This  letter  he  mailed  her  as  a  kind  of  herald,  deciding, 
with  a  prudent  remembrance  of  the  bourgeois  uncle,  that 
he  should  wait  an  answer  to  the  same,  before  presenting 
himself  in  person. 

In  that  tolerably  sober  tale  which  Mr.  Leigh  had  con 
jured  out  of  Carroll  De  Lancey,  the  latter  had  naturally 
referred  to  Mrs.  Bingham  as  authority.  That  lady,  as 
Mr.  Leigh  knew,  and  as  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  very  well 
knew  at  the  time  of  her  last  interview  with  Monny,  had 
arrived  safely  in  New- York  harbor,  after  all  the  alarming 
delay  of  "The  Etolia." 

Mrs.  Bingham  was  a  very  old  friend  of  Mr.  Leigh's, 
and  he  sought  and  ascertained  her  whereabouts  at  once. 
She  had  gone  to  her  out-of-town  place  on  the  Hudson, 
where  Mr.  Leigh  saw  her  the  very  next  day  ;  and  how 
many  words  did  it  require  from  this  lady  to  bring  him  up, 


436  A  KEVEREND   IDOL. 

out  of  the  horrible  pit  of  false  belief  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  into  the  sunlight  of  day? 

Divine  as  was  that  sense  of  transition  from  hell  to 
heaven  in  which  Kenyon  Leigh  journeyed  back  to  Cape 
Cod,  it  was  pierced  with  a  remorse  which  it  seemed  to 
him  would  go  with  him  through  life,  and  cleave  to  him  in 
his  shroud,  — remorse  for  having  ever  doubted  Monny. 

Contrary  to  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  belief,  Mrs.  Binghnm 
was  in  possession  of  data  which  enabled  her  absolutely  to 
know  and  prove  that  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  had  knowingly 
and  deliberately  lied  from  the  beginning.  These  proofs 
she  naturally  laid  before  Mr.  Leigh,  ere  their  interview 
ended.  But  even  his  indignation  over  the  false  woman 
who  had  so  infamously  betrayed  them  both  occupied  him 
but  little,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  his  own  self-reproach,  in 
forever  asking  himself  what  tenderness  he  had  failed  of 
towards  Monny,  that  she  should  have  so  feared  to  tell  him 
that  poor  little  folly  of  her  schooldays,  which  he  would 
have  forgotten  with  a  kiss. 

Well,  Kenyon  Leigh  had  not  failed  as  a  lover :  he  hatf 
merely  failed,  as  a  man,  to  comprehend  a  woman.. 


BEVEKKND   IDOL.  437 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

despair  of  the  forsaken  girl  on  the  Cape-Cod 
--  shore  was  a  despair  from  which,  in  its  nature,  there 
could  be  no  re-action  :  with  every  hour  she  only  sank  the 
deeper.  Sleep  never  touched  her  eyelids,  nor  food  her 
lips ;  although  she  had  sense  enough  left  to  disguise  this 
from  the  villager  who  was  housekeeper  in  Mrs.  Doanc's 
absence,  and  who  regularly  brought  her  meals  to  the 
studio.  Any  suspicious  of  this  woman  were  easily  enough 
quieted  ;  for,  being  almost  stone  deaf,  she  went  about  her 
duties  like  an  automaton,  and,  sharing  the  village  under 
standing  that  Miss  Rivers  was  a  genius,  she  concluded 
that  the  young  lady's  strange  prisoning  of  herself  in  her 
own  room  was  only  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  genius. 
Even  Jenny  Hines  had  flitted  home  from  the  abode  which 
had  suddenly  grown  so  dull,  and  where  there  was  nothing 
to  do :  so  the  solitary  girl  was  all  unwatched  and  alone 
in  the  darkness  which  was  pressing  upon  her  life  and 
brain.  She  had  no  longer  a  thought  of  seeking  her  rela 
tives  :  aunt  Helen  had  no  plummet  to  sound  her  suffer 
ings  now.  These  were  not  assuaged  by  a  letter  which 
came  back  to  her  from  Mr.  Leigh,  —  he  had  written  it  on 
the  cars,  when  the  first  storm  of  his  emotions  left  him 
space,  to  reflect  on  one  last  service  that  could  be  done  the 
girl. 

"  Miss  TIrvERS,  —  You  must  marry  Carroll  De  Lanccy.  I  shall 
find  him,  wherever  he  is,  and  bring  him  to  you,  and  perform  the 
ceremony  myself. 

LEIGH." 


438  A  KEVEIiEND   IDOL. 

The  man's  intent  thus  to  officiate  was  only  moved  by 
his  instinctive  impulse  to  make  sure  that  the  thing  was 
done ;  but  to  Monny  there  was  an  iron  hardness,  even  a 
terrible  mockery,  in  the  laconic  note. 

Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  also  received  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Leigh  about  the  same  time.  Yes,  the  proud  man  humbled 
himself  to  write  to  the  widow,  in  a  blind  sense  that  the 
aid  of  some  woman  would  be  necessary  to  get  Moimy 
married  to  Carroll  De  Lancey  quietly  and  without  scan 
dal  ;  and  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt,  as  knowing  the  whole  his 
tory,  and  having  the  tact  of  a  woman  of  the  world, 
seemed  to  him  the  one  to  accomplish  this.  His  note  to 
her  was  brief  and  formal  enough,  but  the  intriguer 
clutched  it  with  wild  exultation.  Once  get  Mouny  mar 
ried  to  Carroll  De  Lancey,  and  Mrs.  Bingham  would  rise 
from  the  dead  in  vain  to  undo  the  bond. 

She  knew,  as  we  have  said,  that  Mrs.  Bingham  had 
thus  risen, — that  she  had  landed  safe  in  New  York.  It 
would  be  a  desperate  race  with  time  now ;  but  she  had 
already  won  many  desperate  chances  in  this  contest,  and, 
suppressing  a  fierce  excitement  under  her  wonted  calm 
manner,  the  widow  sped  to  the  house  of  her  victim.  The 
first  sight  of  the  latter  alone  in  her  studio  strengthened 
the  hopes  of  the  traitress ;  for  she  saw  that  the  crushed 
girl  had  sunk  down  without  a  thought  of  doing  battle 
for  her  name  and  fame.  No :  Monny's  was  not  a  spirit 
to  have  fallen  helplessly  under  any  other  kind  of  false 
accusation.  If  she  had  been  charged  with  theft,  murder, 
any  crime  in  the  calendar  save  this  which  she  had  been 
accused  of,  she  would  have  summoned  all  her  clear  young 
faculties  to  set  the  facts  of  her  innocence  in  such  a  light 
that  they  should  be  evidence  to  others.  But  to  know  that 
the  purity  of  a  pure  maiden  could  be  a  debatable  thing, 
that  belief  in  her  could  turn  on  such  a  question  as  the 


A  KEVI-:I:I:ND  IDOL.  439 

proving  of  an  alibi,  —  this,  as  we  know,  had  unhinged 
existence  to  her.  The  only  response  she  made  to  Mrs. 
Van  Cortlamlt's  salute  was  to  indicate  that  she  had  given 
orders  to  admit  no  one. 

44  Yes,  I  know,"  replied  the  intruder.  "But  I  come 
fiom  Mr.  Leigh.  lie  has  written  me  a  letter,"  and  she 
displayed  the  missive.  "He  sees,  as  the  whole  world 
would,  that  your  only  salvation  is  in  marrying  Carroll  De 
Lancey,  that  marriage  with  any  other  man  is  forever  im 
possible  to  you.  And,  since  the  engagement  with  Mr. 
De  Lancey  was  broken  off  by  yourself,  doubtless  the 
young  man  can  be  induced  to  renew  it.  Mr.  Leigh  will, 
I  am  sure,  accomplish  this.  lie  wrote  me,  asking  me  to 
see  you  at  once,  to  arrange  things  ;  for,  of  course,  the 
sooner  you  change  your  maiden  name,  the  better." 

While  all  these  words  were  said,  Monny's  eyes,  lifted 
in  their  strange,  still  agony,  to  the  speaker's  face,  grew 
wide  and  wider  with  an  utterly  new  insight.  She  saw 
—  at  last  —  IIEU  RIVAL.  Stunned  by  the  revelation,  she 
sat  for  a  space ;  then  she  rose  slowly  to  her  feet,  with 
some  strange,  strange  exaltation  in  her  bearing,  which 
made  her  slight  figure  seem  to  fill  the  room,  even  to  the 
effacing  of  the  tall  woman,  —  so  little  has  mere  altitude 
to  do  with  the  presence.  Self  in  its  last  and  dearest 
stronghold  was  being  conquered  in  the  girl  by  a  mightier 
solicitude. 

"When  you  are  married  to  Mr.  Leigh,"  she  began  in 
a  thrilling  voice  (the  startled  intriguer  changed  color,  but 
did  not  deny  the  impeachment),  "there  is  something  I 
should  wish  you  to  have."  And,  turning,  she  took  a  can 
vas  which  was  leaned  face  towards  the  wall,  and  sr-t  it  in 
open  view  on  an  easel.  It  was  the  resplendent  nead  of 
the  Knight-Templar,  — his  in  every  line  and  feature.  For 
the  moment,  even  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  quailed  before  the 


440  A  EEVEEEND   IDOL. 

living  glory  of  that  face,  the  solemn,  ringing  voice  of  the 
girl  who  had  painted  it  for  love's  sake,  as  she  said,  — 

4 'There  came  a  power  upon  me,  when  I  painted  that 
picture,  to  make  it  true,  to  show  him  for  the  wonderful 
being  he  is  :  therefore  I  wish  you  now  to  have  it.  —  kept 
away  somewhere  where  he  will  not  see  it  (he  will  not 
wish  to  see  my  works)  ;  but  keep  the  picture  where  you 
can  study  it  daily,  that  it  may  help  you  to  know  him 
rightly,  to  understand  him  as  he  is.  How  else  can  you 
make  him  happy  as  his  wife?"  murmured  the  girl  with 
a  voice  of  anguished  yearning,  divining  in  this  clairvoyant 
moment,  if  never  before,  the  woman's  alien  spirit,  and 
comprehending  what  it  would  be  to  Kenyon  Leigh  to  have 
in  his  married  life  at  once  all  the  loneliness  of  solitude, 
and  all  the  ennui,  the  obstruction,  which  there  is  in  inti 
macy  without  companionship. 

"I  came  to  speak  of  the  other  affair, — of  your  mar 
riage,"  began  the  widow,  restless  under  that  soul-piercing 
gaze  which  her  young  victim  bent  on  her  face. 

"There  needs  no  talk  about  that,"  said  Monny,  recall 
ing  herself  with  a  shiver,  while  that  stony  veil  of  apathetic 
despair  which  had  been  lifted  a  little  by  her  questioning 
throes  over  Kenyon  Leigh's  fate  settled  again  upon  her 
face.  "I  shall  make  no  trouble.  I  shall  obey  Mr. 
Leigh.  Until  he  comes,  leave  me,  leave  me,  madam ! 
Leave  me!"  and  there  was  an  imperative  passion  in  the 
girl's  voice  which  at  last  the  persistent  widow  dared  not 
disobey :  she  went. 

Death-like  was  the  low  moan  with  which  Monny  turned 
then  to  the  picture  of  her  lost  lover :  the  sobbings  of  her 
broken  heart  made  a  cruel  sound  in  the  little  room.  By 
and  by  she  went  searching  for  that  sketch  she  had  made 
of  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  head :  when  it  was  found,  she 
set  it  up  beside  his.  Terrible  hours  went  over  her  while 


A  REVEREND  IDOL.  441 

she  gazed  on  the  twain.     They  were  to  be  one,  an  1  she 

was  to  bo  delivered  over  to  Carroll  DC  Lancey :  the 
whole  plan  of  earthly  things,  the  very  sense  of  her  own 
being,  grew  eon  fused  and  lost  to  her,  save  as  conscious- 
ness  lived  round  these  two  events,  which  she  saw  fate, 
like  an  iron  wheel,  swiftly  rolling  on  to  bring  to  pass. 

It  was,  perhaps,  from  her  deep  habit  of  loyalty  to  Mr. 
Leigh's  direction,  that  her  mind  had  made  no  active 
resistance  to  the  idea  of  marrying  Carroll  De  Laneey  ;  or, 
indeed,  the  fact  that  the  young  Southerner  was  the  one 
being  in  the  world  to  whom  she  would  never  have  to  say, 
**  J  am  innocent,"  may  even,  at  least,  for  the  first  mo 
ment,  have  given  his  name  a  sound  of  refuge  to  Monny. 

But  there  came  a  violent  awakening  out  of  this  passive 
acquiescence.  This  was  when  Carroll  De  Lancey's  own 
letter  r°°ched  her  (it  came  some  twenty-four  hours  after 
Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt's  visit  to  her  room).  Mr.  Carroll's 
letter  was  a  very  proper  love-letter ;  for  when  he  was 
himself  that  young  man  had  an  admirable  sense  of  the 
proprieties.  But  that  any  man  in  the  universe  should  dare 
address  love-words  to  her,  save  Mr.  Leigh,  thrilled  he/ 
with  a  sense  of  mortal  insult :  she  felt  as  an  outraged  wife 
might  feel.  Heretofore  shame  had  fallen  on  her  name 
only ;  now,  with  this  marriage  to  another  man,  it  would 
reach  her  very  self,  would  burn  into  her  own  soul  for 
ever.  This  degradation  she  could  not  bear,  and  live  ;  and 
out  into  the  wild  night  she  fled,  distraught.  Her  insom 
nia  of  so  many  nights  and  days  had  become  at  last  a  self- 
begetting  disease:  to  the  fierce  throbbing  brain-cells  there 
was  no  longer  any  possibility  of  rest.  Only  one  idra  was 
seized  by  her  reeling  faculties.  It  was  that  Heaven  had 
always  allowed  women  the  right  to  choose  death  rather 
than  dishonor,  and  that  the  hour  of  that  last  alternative 
had  come  to  her.  Out  of  a  world  where  mistakes  were 


442  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

far  more  surely  punished  than  crimes,  a  world  which  had 
some  terrible  necessity  to  keep  social  forms  inviolate  at 
any  and  every  cost,  she  must  go  —  and  go  to-night.  She 
felt  the  pursuers  close  on  her  track,  —  that  strangest  trio 
of  pursuers,  —  coming  with  that  dreadful  swiftness  with 
which  all  the  crises  of  her  fate  had  crowded  on  each 
other ;  and  deliriously  she  started  for  the  sea.  In  the 
deserted  house,  with  only  the  deaf  woman  in  the  kitoheu, 
there  was  none  to  stay  her :  only  a  faithful,  four-footed 
creature  sprang  out  and  followed  her  as  she  ran  from  the 
House. 

44  Go  home  !  "  she  bade  him.  But  Duke  George,  usu 
ally  obedient  to  a  word  from  his  young  mistress,  found 
something  too  strange  about  this  lonely  sortie;  and,  dis 
appearing  for  a  moment  only,  he  was  presently  rushing 
again  by  her  side. 

"Go  home!  go  home !  "  she  cried.  But  he  only 
wagged  his  tail  deprecatingly :  he  would  not  leave  her. 

She  fell  on  her  knees,  clinging  desperately  round  his 
neck,  and  sobbing,  "  Mind  poor,  poor  Mouny,  and  go 
home." 

As  if  the  wail  of  human  anguish  pierced  to  the  com 
prehension  of  the  brute  creature,  this  time  the  dog  did  go 
Dack ;  and  the  panting  fugitive  went  on  her  wild  flight 
ilone. 

All  the  stark  immensity  of  sand  and  sea  and  sky  lay 
*n  that  kind  of  spectral  gloom  made  by  a  moon  shining 
behind  one  uniform,  thick  veil  of  cloud  ;  only  in  the  west 
there  was  a  long  belt  of  livid  light  where  the  sun  had 
gone  down,  momently  darkening,  and,  like  a  lonely  speck 
in  the  aAvful  universe,  the  girl  felt  herself  flying  on  and 
on,  with  a  blind  terror  in  her  crazing  brain,  lest  that 
sullen,  vanishing  light  would  not  last  long  enough  for  her 
to  find  her  grave  by.  But  the  fire  of  fevm*  in  her  veins 


A   EEVEREND   IDOL.  443 

bore  her  up  and  on  with  such  speed  find  strength,  incredi 
bly  soon  she  reached  the  bluff,  the  beach,  and  that  sound 
of  the  surge  which  told  her  that  the  tide  —  was  not  in,  but 
coining.  She  fled  on  towards  the  sound;  but  her  feet 
sank  in  the  briny  ooze :  the  belt  of  tide-mud  was  impas 
sible.  At  this  she  turned,  and  rushed  away  for  Roaring 
L( -dge, —  a  broken  chain  of  rocks  which  began  a  short 
distant  above  her,  and  extended  far  out  into  the  deep 
sea.  She  had  just  reached  this  ledge  when  a  shaggy  form 
pushed  against  her  —  yes  —  Duke  George.  He  had  only 
made  a  feint  of  going  back  :  at  a  little  distance  behind 
her  he  had  stealthily  followed  all  her  flight.  Many  and 
many  a  time,  at  low  water,  had  he  gone  out  on  Roaring 
Ledge  with  his  young  mistress  (its  farthest  seaward  rock 
was  a  favorite  sketching-place  with  her),  her  light  foot 
springing  safely  enough  over  the  sea-channels  between 
the  rocks,  when  these  were  shallow,  and  the  sun  was 
shining.  But  now,  in  the  slippery  darkness,  and  with  the 
hoarse  tide  coming  in,  the  creature  knew  it  was  a  place 
of  death,  and  tugged  at  her  dress  to  ask  what  wild  busi 
ness  she  had  there.  She  thrust  him  off:  but  he  would 
not  leave  her ;  and,  as  she  still  plunged  wildly  on,  he  flew 
after,  beginning  finally  to  bark  aloud. 

With  a  last,  cruel  sense  that  her  very  dog  was  turned 
her  foe,  the  delirious  girl  leaped  only  the  more  desperately 
from  point  to  point,  catching  foothold  by  that  miraculous 
Sense  with  which  the  somnambulist  walks  where  the  wak- 
iir^  could  not  tread, — the  tide  was  rushing  in  to  n  cct 
her  only  a  few  rods  beyond,  and  she  could  jump  from 
the  recks  into  depths  where  the  sea  devoured  its  dead, 
and  never  rolled  them  in  shore  to  trouble  the  eyes  of  the 
living.  With  this  one  idea  in  her  burning  brain,  she 
bounded,  on,  until  in  a  desperate  struggle  with  the  dog, 
—  who,  as  if  comprehending  at  Lost  that  his  mistress  had 


444  A  REVEREND   IDOL. 

gone  daft,  seized  her  garments  to  detain  her  by  force,  — 
she  caught  her  foot,  whirled,  and  fell  headlong :  her 
temples  struck  with  sharp  concussion  on  the  rock  and 
she  knew  no  more. 

Then,  indeed,  the  dog,  with  no  conflicting  iap/Jnot  of 
obedience,  lifted  up  his  wild  cry  for  help  over  iuat  silent 
form.  Setting  his  teeth  in  the  girl's  garments,  he  dragged 
her  U  the  higher  levels  of  the  rock  ;  but  even  around 
these  the  waves  were  rising  with  frightful  rapidity,  and  a 
bark  that  grew  human  in  its  anguish  rang  afar  through 
the  shrouding  darkness  and  over  the  beating  seas. 


A  man  who  had  ridden  early  and  late  rode  up  to  the 
Doane  house  not  very  long  after  Monny  fled  from  it. 
Mrs.  Doane  was  with  him.  She  had  come  home  by  rail 
from  the  next  station  above  Lonewater.  To  the  first 
inquiry  made  by  both,  the  deaf  housekeeper  replied  that 
the  young  lady  was  quiet  in  her  own  rooms.  These  being 
forthwith  explored  by  Mrs.  Doane,  and  found  empty,  she 
said  to  Mr.  Leigh,  "  She  has  gone  to  the  village,  of 
course  ;  probably  to  the  Widow  Macey's.  Some  one  will 
be  coining  home  with  her  presently." 

Waiting  being  impossible  to  the  man's  mood,  he  was 
rushing  out  of  the  door  to  go  to  the  village,  when  Bobby 
Ilines,  small  member  of  the  very  large  Hines  family, 
came  running  up  the  yard,  calling  out,  ''Where's  Miss 
JMonuy  Rivers?  " 

At  this  echo  of  everybody's  cry,  Mr.  Leigh  stood  still, 
N  hile  the  child  panted  on,  — 

"  The  tide  hev'  got  her  dog  out  on  Roaring  Ledge,  and 
he's  barking  dreadful !  And  mother  said  I  must  come 
and  tell  Miss  Rivers,  cos  she'd  take  on  so  if  he  was 
drowndcd.  Mother  said  .maybe  he'd  hurt  hisself  out 


A   REVEKEND    IDOL.  449 

torm,  .  Val  more.     But  what  could  tnybody 

do 

.siness,"  said  the  general, 
.o  be  told  of?     Was  that  story,  In 
.1  story  for  general  circulation?     Of 
.  Miss  Rivers  would  tell  her  husband, 
>  have  one.     But,  at  the  time,  was  it  not 
dora,  so  far  as  human  wisdom  can  foresee 
'hing,  to  hush  the  whole  thing  up?  " 

aigham  here  did  finally  make  some  concessions 
:e's  view  of  things;  but,  perhaps  because  it  hurt 
much  to  make  them,  he  presently  turned  to  another 
phase  of  the  subject. 

1  •  Pretty,  you  say  she  is,  this  bride  of  so  many  perils  ? 
What  is  her  style?" 

44  Round  and  dimpled,"  replied  the  lady,  "dark  eyes,' 
and  the  most  beautiful  fair  hair  and  complexion  in  the 
world." 

"How  charming!  There  shall  be  a  reception  in  her 
honor,  to  which  none  but  men  shall  be  admitted,  especially 
the  unhappily  married  men  like  myself  (Gen.  Bingham 
worshipped  his  wife).  Do  you  suppose,  that,  after  suf 
fering  the  oblations  of  women  to  Kenyon  Leigh,  the  men 
of  this  parish  are  not  going  to  take  it  out  now  in  adoring 
his  wife?" 

"  You  know  that  you  worship  Mr.  Leigh  yourself,"  put 
in  the  lady  ;  "  only,  being  a  man,  nobody  misunderstands 
your  sentiments." 

"Well,  the  feminine  worshippers  will  have  the  same 
'mmuuity,  now  that  he  is  to  be  married,  and  married  to  a 
aeing  who  has  inspired  him  with  a  veritable  grande  pas 
»'o?i,  as  it  seems  the  golden-haired  )Toung  person  has.  I 
dud  that  exactly  as  it  should  be.  The  rockiest  heart  that 
«  walled  up  around  emptiness  will  tempt  the  artillery  of 


450  A   REVEREND   IDOL. 

the  daring ;  but  the  one  fortress  of  that  kind  which  the 
most  roving  sentimentalist  leaves  in  peace  is  the  one  tliat 
is  occupied  already  by  a  supreme  conqueror.  Yes,"  con 
cluded  the  general,  4'  we  secular  men  may  worry  along  as 
we  can  with  our  imperfect  mates ;  but  to  a  '  magnetic ' 
minister  Heaven  should  send  his  absolute  affinity.  Of  a 
pulpit  genius  you  should  always  be  able  to  say  in  one  and 
the  same  breath,  '  He's  a  great  preacher,  and  very  much 
in  love  with  his  wife.'  " 

If  doubts  still  trouble  the  mind  of  readers  as  to  the  fit 
ness  of  Monny  Rivers  for  a  minister's  wife,  it  is  certain 
that  she  would  meet  the  case  as  defined  by  Gen.  Bingham  ; 
and,  the  general  being  a  chief  warden  of  Mr.  Leigh's  own 
church,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  parish  was  satisfied.  That 
is  enough. 


A  REVEREND   IDOL. 


447 


of  the  stmnge  events  which  had  attended  his  courtship), 
44  one  mystery,  which,  as  a  man,  I  humbly  ask  you  to 
explain  to  me,  my  dear.  Why,  why,  ?r////,  did  you  ever 
advise  Miss  Rivers  to  secrecy  in  the  first  place,  when 
an  open  disclosure  at  the  time  of  all  the  facts,  just  as 
they  were,  about  that  New-Orleans  journey,  would  have 
shown  everybody  how  absolutely  innocent  the  girl  was  of 
any  fault  whatever?  " 

" Spoken  like  a  man,"  replied  the  lady;  "when,  after 
two  or  three  repetitions,  all  the  facts  would  infallibly  have 
been  told  just  as  they  were  not.  Once  let  out  such  an 
adventure  as  that  about  a  young  girl,  and  '  Enter  Rumor, 
painted  full  of  tongues.' ' 

"Oh,  if  we  must  hide  facts,  because  liars  will  pervert 
them  !  ' '  said  the  general. 

"You  know,  Arthur,  you  must  acknowledge,  that  men 
can  afford  to  have  facts  told,  when  women  cannot.  At 
the  very  best,  that  story  would  have  given  Miss  Rivers's 
name  a  dashing,  adventurous  sound,  —  a  kind  of  name 
that  no  girl  ever  deserved  less." 

tpAnd  if  rescue  had  come  to  her  a  little  later  that 
drowning  night,  and  she  had  died  there,  as  the  end  of  all 
that  mad  tangle  of  lies  that  she  had  been  wound  up  in  by 
concealment,  would  not  that  have  been  rather  more  serious 
than  to  have  had  a  wrong  sound  given  to  her  name  half  a 
dozen  years  before?  Young  members  of  the  sensitive 
sex  have  drowned  themselves,  and  never  been  brought  to 
life  again,  either,  for  considerably  less  cause  than  she  had 
after  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  got  hold  of  her  and  her  story. 
You  see,  that  story  was  not  completely  hidden,  with  all 
your  pains.  There  was  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knowing  it 
all  the  while.  Somebody  always  does  know  things  that 
have  really  occurred,"  persisted  the  man. 

"  Now,  Arthur,  could  any  mortal  foresee  the  criminal 


446  A  BEVEKEND  IDOL. 

The  boat  came  up,  and  took  in  the  three, —the  man, 
the  dog,  and  the  maiden ;  but  her  they  lifted  as  we  *.ift 
the  dead. 


"  Is  she  dead  ?  "  a  tall,  proud  woman  came  stealing  up 
to  Mrs.  Doane's  door  to  ask,  an  hour  or  more  ; 
unconscious  young  form  had  been  borne  through  it. 

Susannah  lifted  high  the  lamp,  and  glared  fiercely  uito 
the  speaker's  face.  "If  she  is  dead,  an*  you  want  to 
'scape  the  gallows,  go  buy  yourself  a  dose  of  sure  pison, 
and  drink  it  quick !  For  Mr.  Leigh  hab  found  out  ail 
your  wickedness,  —  tellin'  lies  on  dat  pore  drowned  chile  ; 
an'  if  she  never  open  her  innercent  eyes  again,  he'll  hab 
you  hung  for  her  murderer ! ' ' 

From  these  lowly  lips  Mrs.  Van  Cortlandt  knew  hei 
doom ;  and  the  poor,  guilty  sinner  slunk  away  in  the 
darkness,  hastening  to  put  the  breadth  of  a  hemisphere 
between  herself  and  the  place  where  she  had  played  a 
Satanic  game,  and  lost  it. 


The  rescued  victim  did  open  her  eyes  again,  but  not 
with  any  knowledge  of  what  they  looked  on,  for  many 
long  nights  and  days.  It  was  through  the  very  gates  of 
death  that  she  came  back  to  life,  and  oft  was  the  passage 
terribly  uncertain. 

But  youth  at  last  conquered,  and  the  love  that  watched 
her  with  superhuman  watch-care. 

' 


"There's  one  thing,"  said  Gen.  Bingham  to  his  wife 
(Kenyon  Leigh's  wedding-cards  were  just  out,  and  had 
moved  a  new  rehearsal,  by  this  deeply  interested  fireside, 


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